Aqueous
by Cats070911
Summary: When Tommy's friend sends him a carving before he dies, Tommy becomes embroiled in an international conspiracy that threatens the very existence of mankind. Can he and Barbara uncover the plot and stop it before the world plunges into war?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. This is a little different, more of a 'thriller' than a case fic - and yes, there is a romantic element. I hope you enjoy it. There will not be a chapter a day - more like one every 2-3 days.

* * *

Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley added his signature to his letter of resignation then folded it carefully before sealing it in an envelope. He left it on his desk and walked out into the squad room.

His partner looked up and frowned. "You okay, Sir?"

"May I have a word, Havers?"

"Yeah, okay."

His sergeant looked wary. He almost smiled knowing she was busily running through the last few days trying to find any way that she had upset him or the establishment. He walked quickly back towards his office with her lagging behind stalling for time. "I haven't got all day."

"Sorry, Sir."

Tommy shut the door and waved for Barbara to have a seat. He wandered to the window and looked out across the trees, unable to face her. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

"Is Hillier on the rampage? If it's about me parking in the loading zone, it was literally only for five minutes. I was…"

"Barbara, stop. This has nothing to do with you."

She sat up and leant forward towards him. "Then what's wrong? You've been acting weird all day."

"Well, it is about you in a way, but not the way you think."

She came to stand beside him. "Sir, just spit it out."

"I'm resigning, and I wanted to tell you first. I meet with Hillier in ten minutes."

"And you tell me now?!"

He turned his head to face her. He deserved her anger. "I intended to inform you last night at dinner."

"And here's me thinking that you liked my company. You only took me out to inform me you are resigning?" Tommy winced at the way she had emphasised inform. It did sound impersonal.

"No. Yes. No, I do enjoy your company. That's why I couldn't say anything. We were having such a great time listening to that band. I couldn't tell you and spoil the night."

Her face iced over. "Am I permitted to ask why?"

"Of course. I'm moving to Singapore for a while."

"Singapore? What the hell is there?"

"Answers, I hope."

"What is the question? No, don't tell me. I can guess. Thank you for telling me, Sir. I have a migraine, so I need to take the afternoon off."

"Barbara, I don't want to do this, but I can't think of any alternative."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Tommy noticed a distinct change in her tone. Concern had replaced disappointment and anger.

"I don't know. It's a long story. I don't want to involve you."

"I see. Right. After ten years together, I thought… Doesn't matter. How long before you go?"

"I'm booked on a flight on Tuesday. I'm taking my leave owing in lieu of my notice."

"Five days. That soon?" Tommy noticed Barbara's bottom lip begin to tremble. "I have to go. All the best if I don't see you again. It's been an honour." Her voice cracked on the last word. She gave a brief wave and dashed from his office.

"Barbara, wait."

As the door slammed, Tommy kicked his desk. He swore loudly as the shockwave raced up his toe and into his ankle.

* * *

Barbara grabbed her bag. "I'm feeling unwell. I'm going home," she told Winston before dashing out the door.

Too upset to drive, she made a beeline for the bus stop, running the last twenty yards when she saw her bus approaching. She collapsed into the first seat and stared aimlessly out of the window.

Nothing felt real. Her brain was clouded with thoughts and memories, hopes and dreams that collided and ricocheted like atoms waiting for the catalyst to create a thermonuclear reaction. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw things. She wanted to cry.

Barbara scurried up the road to her flat. She did not want to meet anyone. The last thing she needed now was small talk. She shut her door and threw her bag on the floor. Without bothering to remove her jacket, she collapsed onto her bed and buried her face in her pillow. Finally free to scream without risking arrest, she could only manage a few wracking sobs.

When her doorbell rang half an hour later, she ignored it. Then her phone began to chirp, so she ignored that too. Five times it rang, interspersed by furious knocking and persistent bell ringing. Fearing that the neighbours would telephone the police, she opened the door. "What?"

"We need to talk."

"Not now, Sir. What part of I have a migraine and want to be left alone was hard for you to understand?"

"Barbara, I know I've upset you."

She thrust her head up and try to look as nonchalant as she could. "No, what gave you that idea?"

"The fact you're still wearing your coat for a start. I need to tell you the full story."

For the first time, she glanced directly at him. The urbane Tommy Lynley, 8th Earl of Asherton, looked tired and worried. She wanted answers, and he was here to explain. With a sigh, she stepped back. "Come in then."

* * *

Tommy removed his jacket and hung it carefully on the line of hooks in the small space that passed for her hallway. He sat heavily in her chair and ran his fingers slowly through his hair. "I don't suppose you have any Scotch?"

"Yeah, somewhere here." Barbara hung her coat beside his, then made her way to her kitchen and retrieved the bottle from her top cupboard along with two dusty tumblers. She poured herself a drink then handed him the bottle and an empty glass. "Help yourself."

Tommy's hand shook as he slopped whisky into the glass. "I didn't want to hurt you, Barbara."

"Who says you did?" she asked with much more defiance in her tone than she felt. Watching him sitting there, clearly distressed, she had already forgiven him. But she was worried. "Is you mother alright?"

"Mother? Oh, yes. She's fine. This is about... something else."

She sat in the chair opposite him. "You could have talked to me if you have a problem. You still can."

"I didn't want to burden you."

"It's not a burden. What did Hillier say?"

"I changed my appointment to tomorrow. Coming after you was more important."

His eyes had that puppy dog look that she found hard to resist. "Thanks."

"I mean it. You are my friend; my only real friend. You deserve better."

"Than what?"

He looked down and scuffed his foot along the edge of her rug. "Me."

"Rubbish! Do you see a queue of friends lining up at my door? We're in this together. Have been since Yorkshire." He looked up and smiled so openly and affectionately that she wanted to drop to her knees and crawl over into his arms. Instead, she shook head. "That's why you walking out hurt... hurts so much."

"I don't want to lose that either, Barbara. I'm not walking out on you."

Barbara could not bear to watch his eyes any longer. She stood and walked to the front window. "Then why the hell are you leaving me to go to Singapore?"

Tommy walked up behind her. His body was so close she could feel his warmth. She wanted to snuggle back into it and lose herself in him.

"I'm not leaving you. That's the hardest part of all this. Knowing you won't be beside me each day…"

She turned to look at him. Barbara studied his face. Tommy's emotions were in turmoil. He clearly wanted Barbara's support and ideas, but he was unable, or unwilling, to ask."Then tell me what's wrong. We can figure something out. We always do."

"Unfortunately, this doesn't make sense, even to me. I can't really explain."

"Stop being so bloody cryptic, and just tell me what's happened!"

"A friend from Eton was living in Singapore. He died recently. The local police ruled it was suicide, but he sent me a package before he died. He was murdered, I'm sure of it. And I think it is only a matter of time before whoever it was that killed him realises what I have and comes after me."

"So you're going to make it easier for them by going to them?"

"No, I'm trying to find them before they find me."

"Bloody hell, Tommy. You have to tell Hillier and MI6 or anyone who can help."

"I think MI6 might be involved," he said with a heavy sigh. "Hey, you called me Tommy."

"Did I? Sorry."

"Don't be. I've waited years for this moment." He rested his forearms on her shoulders. It was not a hug, but it could easily become one.

Barbara put her hands on his chest and, after hesitating a second, pushed him away. It was that or make a complete idiot of herself by nuzzling her face against his chest. "Don't change the subject. What did he send you?"

"A Chinese carving."

"Made from what? Pure gold? Why is it so important?"

"It's jade, and I don't know. He sent it to me with a note."

"Saying?"

"You have to read it, but essentially it was an 'if I die, you know what to do' note."

"And that is going to Singapore?"

Tommy ran his fingers through his hair. "That's the only thing I can think of that might help. I have no idea what he wanted me to do. If I go, I might learn something to point me in the right direction."

Barbara snorted. "Or get bambooed to death."

"Bambooed to death?" Despite everything, Tommy had to smile.

"I've seen it on those Jackie Chan films. Men in black suits with bamboo sticks beating the absolute crap out of people."

"Poetic licence. Those sticks are called eskrima and originate in The Philippines, not Singapore. And Jackie Chan is from Hong Kong."

"I don't know about es-screamer, but if I were hit by one I know I'd scream."

Tommy took her hand and shook his head. "Thank you," he said as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"For what?"

"For being you."

She grunted. "Ahh. So are you going to let me help you, or not?"

"Let's go to the pub first. We can talk there. If anyone is watching, it will look normal. Then we can go back to my place if you still want to help me."

"Sir, I am not going to abandon you, especially if you are in trouble."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for your comments, some of which amused me. The first eight chapters have been written for several months but it seems some of you will get your wish or see your comment in action over the next few chapters.

* * *

Tommy fretted that he was leading Barbara into danger. He would never forgive himself if she were hurt. He noticed she had returned to calling him Sir but decided not to press it. Calling him Tommy had been a breakthrough, and he would encourage her to use his name more often. He liked the way she said it; the way it made him feel. "I don't want to put you in danger. Besides, I really could do with another drink."

"That in itself is dangerous," Barbara mumbled as they approached her local.

"I'm not going to disappear down the neck of a bottle if that's what you're worried about."

"Good. That's a start."

The pub was crowded, but most were familiar faces. They took their beers to their favourite table near the rear. "Cheers," Tommy saluted.

"Cheers. Now tell me everything."

Tommy smiled at her no-nonsense attitude. "Yes, ma'am. Charlie Wintergreen was at Eton with me. His family came from Somerset. He was an excellent cricketer and ran marathons before it was trendy. When I went to Oxford, he headed to Cambridge, so we lost touch for a while. A few years ago we caught up again at the Old Etonian Club. He had been in Hong Kong working as a merchant banker. We stayed in touch and played tennis whenever he was back in London. Two years ago he was transferred to Singapore. Charlie visited about six months ago and seemed distracted. He said he had lost some money for some influential customers when an investment in a renewable energy company turned sour. It turns out his customers were Chinese criminals, most likely in a triad. The sort of money he was talking about was considerable. His employer was unfazed, as speculative investments are always risky, but the triad wanted their money."

"How much?"

"Several billion. About seven I believe."

"Whoa! Bloody hell."

"Indeed."

"And they were coming after him for it?"

"No, they knew he didn't have it. They were using the investment to clean up money, possibly from drugs, but Charlie suspected that most of it actually came from human trafficking. That's big business in Asia."

"What did he do?"

"What they asked I think."

"So why do you believe he was murdered if he was helping them?"

"The carving. Why send it to me with a note if it wasn't important?"

"Is jade valuable?"

"It's not seven billion dollars worth, that's for sure."

"And there's nothing unusual about it?"

Tommy gave her a wry smile. "I wouldn't say that. I think you need to come home and look at it. You might have some ideas."

"Hmm, come home and look at my carving. That sounds like a line... Tommy." She tilted her head slightly and grinned at him.

Her smile was slightly flirty, something he had not expected, and perhaps not something she intended. He felt his face go red. "Don't joke. Wait until you see the carving."

* * *

"That's it?" Barbara stared at the small green carving that he had pulled from his safe.

"Yes, not much to go on is it?"

Barbara picked up the small jade carving and examined it from all angles. "Is it what I think it is?"

He nodded. "Yes. It's a fertility symbol disguised as a Buddhist monk. See how his robe comes up to form…"

"Yes, yes. I can see what it forms. I just don't believe someone actually sent you a three-inch jade penis."

"Now you can understand why I was amused when you said it was a pick-up line."

"Hmm. So?" She ignored his levity.

"So? I have no idea what I am supposed to do with it."

"Several ideas come to mind."

Lynley snorted. "Very droll."

"Maybe shag everyone you see? No, hang on, you already have…"

"That's not fair."

She took pity on him. "Sorry, Tommy. It was a joke. I have no more idea what to do with your little penis here than you do."

They looked at each other, then burst out laughing. "Barbara!"

"Sorry, we probably shouldn't go into that. It didn't come out the way I…" Barbara could not stop laughing. "Oh, god, sorry."

"And just to ensure my manhood is not under question, no one has ever complained about me having a little carving."

"Tommy!" Barbara put up her hand, her fingers forming the traditional stop signal. "Too much information!"

He was red-faced but smirking. "Sorry." He held up the carving and waved it around.

"Yeah, like hell you are. Typical man. Hey… do you have a magnifying glass?"

"Haha."

She frowned at him. "No, I'm serious. I thought I saw something in the light."

Tommy opened the top drawer of his mahogany desk and retrieved an antique magnifying glass surrounded by brass. Over the years, hundreds of fingers had rubbed away the carving nearest the handle. "What does it say?"

Barbara took the lens and rolled her eyes. "At least give me a chance to look."

"Sorry."

"And stop apologising. It's getting annoying."

"Sorr… Okay, okay."

"No words," she said as she strained to identify the minuscule markings, "but it looks like letters and numbers. Got a pen?"

Tommy quickly found pen and paper. "Yes."

"2269ZAVTU0AJY."

"Anything else?"

Barbara examined the rest of the carving under the strong light of his fancy LED desk lamp. "No, nothing else anywhere. Any idea what it means?"

"I haven't got a clue."

"Well, they weren't engraved by accident. There was nothing in the letter to give you any clues as to how to interpret it?"

Tommy pulled the letter from his drawer. "No, but you have a look."

Barbara took the single sheet and scanned it. "Dear Tiggles? Who's Tiggles?"

"Me."

His face had turned red but she wondered if the name was important to solving the mystery. "Spill… Tiggles."

Tommy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "It was my nickname during my first year at Eton. Tommy Tiggles."

"Tommy Tiggles? You can't be serious."

"Sadly, yes. Part of moving into a house was the older boys living there making up limericks for us. Mine was not very flattering. Well, none of them were I suppose, that was the point. It started as Tommy Tiggles has the wriggles… it goes on, but I'm not sharing that bit."

Barbara tried hard not to smirk. "Catchy. I imagine it was a form of bastardisation?"

"Yes, although it was simply called initiation then."

She smiled across at him. "Still hurtful, I imagine."

"Not really, just rude."

"Maybe it's important."

"I doubt it. It was typical schoolboy bad taste."

"Hmm?"

"Oh for heaven's sake! It's not even a proper limerick. The number of syllables is wrong."

"It might give us a clue. Can you remember it?"

Tommy sighed heavily. His face turned puce and he took a deep breath before he spoke. "Tommy Tiggles has the wriggles, giving Mrs Fitz the giggles. His dick is stiff, and oh so bawdy. He's our randy Cornish Lordy."

Barbara stopped, looked at him then collapsed in a fit of laughter. "That's not so bad," she said when she calmed down, "but it is missing the fifth line."

Tommy had caught her laughing fit. "No… it… has one."

Barbara ignored his pleading eyes. "Mmm?"

"Who shags her so hard she jiggles."

Barbara smiled at the way Tommy hid the second word behind a sharp cough, then Barbara laughed inappropriately loudly again at the ending. "That's priceless. Who was Mrs Fitz?"

"Our house mistress. Unfortunately, she was very… matronly."

Barbara cupped her hands out in front of her chest. "You mean?"

"Mmm. Bigger."

She could not contain her amusement. "So were you?" she teased.

"No! I was only thirteen!"

"So what age did you shag her? Fourteen? You must have given them some indication you'd be a ladies man, Tiggles."

"Can we change the subject, please? My teenage sexual proclivities have nothing to do with it."

"On the contrary, I think your relationship with Charlie is crucial to this case."

Tommy looked horrified. "That relationship wasn't sexual!"

"No, I don't mean that. I wasn't having a dig at public schoolboys, but if he trusted you to take care of Sexy Buddha here, he must've held you in high regard. Your relationship with him is the key to solving this case."

"Is it?"

"I think so."

"No, I mean is it a case? I suppose if we look at it that way, we might solve it."

"We will… Tiggles."

"Stop that. It reminds me of… Hang on."

"What?"

Barbara watched as Tommy wrote down the alphabet then began to write numbers under each letter. "At Eton, we used this as a crude code. If Tiggles was the signal to remind me, then he may have coded the carving the same way."

"So what does it say?"

"UUYB7831208176."

"Well, that is so much clearer. Mean anything to you?"

"No, but some of those letters might be different. Were any of the numbers closer together on the carving?"

"I don't think so, but you have a look."

"No, so what could it mean?" He made several notes and combined the numbers together to get alternative answers. "The only thing that makes any sense is UBS if I combine the 2 and 6 as 26."

"What's the significance?"

"UBS is a Swiss bank. Charlie was a merchant banker."

"Ooh, yes. You think this is a bank account number?"

"No, the number of digits is not correct."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "I suppose you have Swiss bank accounts?"

"Yes, but not for tax evasion if that's what you're implying."

"I never said that!"

"Sorry."

She frowned at him. "I thought we agreed… So what is it for? A safe deposit box?"

Tommy stroked his chin. "That'd be my guess."

"So…" Barbara rubbed her temples. "We need to go to Switzerland."

Tommy walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. "You've already helped me enough. If this is dangerous, I don't want you to be hurt in any way."

"That's not your decision, Tommy. I will worry more if you go alone."

"Barbara, I… can't ask you to endanger yourself for me."

"I'm offering. Without you… well you know, don't you? I'd rather die with you than live without you." Barbara looked down. She had never thought about that before, but it was true.

"Barbara…" His hand slid down to her waist.

"Sorry."

Tommy laughed softly. "Don't you start apologising. I feel the same way."

"You do?"

"Yes." Her heart stopped beating as they looked at each other. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her. "When this is over, we need to talk about that," he said eventually.

Barbara dared to put her hands on his hips. "You don't think now might be a good time?"

He closed his eyes. "If we… change everything, it would complicate our lives and I would never be able to do what I need to."

She reached up and stroked his cheek. "I know. That would eat away at both of us and destroy it."

He opened his eyes. "You understand?"

"Yes."

Tommy surprised her by turning his head and kissing her fingers. "It's no wonder I love you."

Barbara's heart now raced. "I love you too," she said softly. "Now, about Switzerland, when do we leave?"

Tommy pulled her into his arms and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. She hugged him back. Like it or not, their relationship had changed dramatically, but she had to respect his wishes.


	3. Chapter 3

Three hours later they had a detailed plan. "Are you sure this will work?" Barbara asked.

Tommy returned to the couch with fresh drinks and sat beside her. "No, but I think it is our best shot."

"And you're sure we can't just catch a plane?"

"If Charles was giving me the clue with Tiggles then this line is the same." He reached across her to the table and grabbed the letter. He pressed his chest against hers. It was unnecessary and he knew she knew that too. Since their declarations, they had been touching each other almost constantly. At first it was innocent but then a hand on the arm had become a gentle squeeze. Passing papers to each other led to brushed fingers and lingering eye contact. He was losing the battle to stay professional until this was over.

"See, 'I have been spooked a lot lately.' It sounds innocent but at school, we used to pretend we were MI6. That's why we had the code to outsmart the spooks. What are you grinning at?"

"The thought of you playing at being a spy. It's… cute."

He sat up and flicked the errant lock of hair from his eyes. "Can't you see me? Lynley. Tommy Lynley," he said in his best Eton accent. "Now Q, hand me my special exploding sergeant."

"Exploding sergeant? I don't want to be a prop. I want to be Moneypenny."

They laughed together and he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "Moneypenny never got Bond."

"Does that mean to have you I have to be a buxom bimbo lying in a skimpy swimsuit on a beach somewhere?"

An image flashed through his mind. "No swimsuit. And you'd never be a bimbo."

"No swimsuit? Why James, how terribly wicked."

"Barbara, what I said earlier. Maybe I was wrong. I don't think we will worry about each other any less by not… pursuing our conversation."

"I know that, but if you can't…"

He put his hand up to silence her. "Tell me if this is inappropriate, but I have wanted to do this for a very long time."

* * *

Tommy's kiss caught her by surprise, even with his lead-in statement. His lips were softer than she had imagined and eager. She froze momentarily, then gave into the joy of kissing the man she had loved for years. Her left hand seized his shirt, and her right pulled his head closer. As his tongue caressed her lips, her fingers tangled in his hair. He smelt of aftershave; the warm comfortable scent that usually surrounded her when she sat in his car. She opened to him and let their kiss deepen.

His tongue circled hers and she tugged at his shirt. Tommy groaned as the tip of her finger tracked a daring line across his back. His hands spread across her backside and he pulled her onto his lap. True to his boasting, he seemed well-endowed. Any sense of reason vanished from her mind. Barbara had wanted this for years, and she was determined to have him. She reached under his shirt and dragged her nails down his back from his shoulders to the bottom of his spine.

She smiled when he broke their kiss to gasp. Halfway down his spine, it became a needy groan. Tommy pulled her back into an embrace and lowered them both onto the seat of the couch.

"Oh, god." The release of pressure around her chest was a shock. This was real, and it was wonderful. Skilfully, he had undone her bra and his fingers were exploring her breasts. She reached between them and tore at his belt before wrestling with his zip.

"Mmm, Barbara," he murmured as her hand slid inside his trousers. "Are you sure?"

"Never more so." She rolled him onto the floor.

* * *

"Sorry," he said as he held her to him and traced a figure of eight across her naked back.

"I'm not," she replied as she ran her tongue around his nipple, amused that it tightened and hardened much like hers. She stopped and looked up. "You're disappointed."

"No! Far from it. But you deserved romance and hours of me making love to you in a soft bed, not ten hasty minutes on the floor of my study."

"That was pure need, for both of us. Hours of more of what we started sounds perfect. I presume you have a soft bed upstairs for you to make good on that offer? Once you recover of course."

"I do. By the time we get up there, I will be more than ready."

* * *

It was almost six in the morning when Tommy woke suddenly. "Barbara?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry, I had a nightmare about a man with serrated teeth shaped like a beak. He was gnawing at my neck."

"Is that what sleeping with me does to you? I was dreaming about the way you kiss me."

"Why dream when we are both here?" Tommy pulled her against him and kissed her lovingly. "Once we sort this out, I'm going to take you somewhere quiet where we can spend weeks just making love. Or maybe I should forget all this and stay here in bed with you."

"Tempting Tiggles, but you know we have to find the answers."

Tommy wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back. He enjoyed having her above him. She smiled before leaning down and kissing him with a passion that no other woman had ever had for him. "I love you."

"I know, you told me about a zillion times." She stroked his hair. "I believe you, Tommy, and I hope that you believe me when I say it too. I love you, Tommy Tiggles."

He smiled and nodded. "Yes, I do. Now, what do I have to do to get you to stop calling me Tiggles?"

Barbara squirmed against him as he tickled her. "No! Don't tickle! Ooh! Yes," she said with a laugh that turned into a long sigh, "you can always do that."

* * *

"Did you get it?" Tommy asked as she climbed into the passenger seat of her car.

"Yes, I think that he was suspicious about me paying cash, but dressed like this he probably thought I don't have a card because I have rejected capitalism. I can pick it up in an hour."

"I never thought I would say this, but you look good as a hippie."

Barbara held up her fingers. "Peace, man."

"That's not the peace gesture."

"I know."

Tommy gave an acknowledging chuckle. "Now for the next part."

"I need to get changed first."

"I think you're better like that, Hippie Havers."

"You're on thin ice, Tiggles," she replied as she pulled her coat on over her tie-dyed shirt.

"A hippie in a Kombi is more convincing."

"It'll draw more attention than a conventional car."

"Not from CCTV cameras. They don't discriminate but the flat windows and higher roof will make it harder for facial recognition software to work effectively. You know yourself how we hate the older vans."

"Yeah. So what's next?"

"Gurus for the props. We can make it to Kensington and back in an hour," he said as he glanced at the time before pulling out into the traffic. "Do you remember your cover story?"

"I'm with an amateur theatre group for the disadvantaged and we're doing a play. So I need the prosthetics kits on my list, prosthetic glue and remover, balding caps, two wigs and some stage makeup. Are you sure you know how to apply it?"

"Oxford's theatrical society taught me more than you might think."

"Well, your performance with Hillier this morning was impressive. Did you see the look on his face when you told him we had recently discovered that we were in love?"

"Sticking close to the truth makes it easier."

Barbara looked across at him. "So saying we needed two months leave to determine if it was just a phase is close to the truth?"

"No, not that part. You are not a phase. You are my life. I was referring to it being a recent discovery, not being able to work with anyone else but knowing the Met's rules, wanting to spend time together, not wanting to resign until we resolve what we want to do…"

"I know. I'm surprised he agreed. Or that he believed us. I barely believe it."

"You're not feeling insecure are you?"

Barbara reached out and put her hand on his thigh. "No."

"Good." He glanced over and gave her a smile. He would like to drive straight home and continue convincing her it was real, but they had to focus. "Barbara!"

She grinned at him as she playfully squeezed his family jewels. "Sorry, my hand slipped."

* * *

Gurus was a large store. At the front was a dazzling display of makeup that would leave many women drooling. It did nothing for Barbara and she moved straight to the theatrical section at the rear.

"Can I help you?"

Barbara turned to see an older man with a fancy black cane limping towards her. "Yeah, hi. I'm working with disadvantaged youth and we're putting on a play. I have a list of things we need to dress them up a bit."

"Certainly." The man looked at the list then gathered the goods. He quickly ran through a few application tips then upsold her on two face masks that were easier to use than the prosthetics.

"I'll take both. The woman doing the makeup gave me this list. I better get what she asked for, just in case."

"And you need two sets of everything?"

"Yes, we perform on a Friday and Saturday." Barbara was shocked that her improvised lies flowed so easily.

"You will only need one bottle each of the glue and remover and one larger pot of pancake will do you. That will save a few dollars."

"Thank you."

"It'll be hot in those masks, especially under lights so make sure the actors stay hydrated. Nothing worse than fainting when your big speech comes up. I should know," he said tapping the cane against his leg.

"You fainted?"

The man nodded. "Not exactly. I was sword fighting and slipped in my sweat. Broke my leg in two places. And don't say it."

"What?"

"That it adds a whole new meaning to 'break a leg'; everyone says that."

Barbara smiled. "Thanks for your help."

"Good luck, my friend. I hope your venture is successful."

"Ta." Barbara turned and began to walk away.

"And stay safe," the man called after her.

She walked around the block to where Tommy was parked. "Any trouble?" he asked.

"No, but the man serving me was a bit strange. It was as if he knew what I was up to."

"We barely know ourselves."

She laughed. "True."

* * *

After Tommy dropped her off at the car yard, he drove her car to her flat. There he pulled the small holdall and a cardboard box he had in the boot of the Bristol and transferred them into the boot of her hatchback. He sighed happily as he slipped behind the wheel of his car. Barbara's vehicle was functional but not exactly comfortable for a tallish man. Still, he was a lot less cramped there than he was about to be.

At home, he made sure he bumped into Mrs Randolph, his neighbour. Since her husband Stanley had died late last year, she had made a point of appearing whenever he was at home. Tommy understood loneliness so he never objected to giving her a few minutes of his time.

"Good morning, Gladys. How are you today?"

"I'm well, Tommy. Did your friend get home alright?"

Tommy smiled. "Yes. I dropped her home this morning, thank you. We drank a little too much for me to drive last night."

"And taxis can be hard to get at night these days."

"Very true. Good job I have a spare room then wasn't it?"

"Hmm, she didn't use the lights at all."

The woman missed nothing. "Well, just between you and I, Gladys, she was a bit inebriated. I had to put her to bed myself."

Gladys raised her eyebrows. "She's lucky to have such a caring friend."

"I like to ensure my guests are looked after. Well, good day. I am visiting a friend in Edinburgh this weekend, so must dash."

"Enjoy your trip, Tommy. Safe travels."

"See you later, Gladys."

Tommy unlocked his door and went inside. He had an hour to get ready. He only hoped he could find the bits and pieces they needed.


	4. Chapter 4

Tommy had succeeded in providing a misleading location. If anyone came looking for him, Gladys was bound to 'help' them. He grabbed his oldest soft bag from the cupboard under the stairs then filled it with old clothes he had intended to donate to the local charity shop.

He then rummaged through a few boxes. "Where is the damned thing? Ah, there you are."

He held up an old snorkel. The tube was brittle blue plastic and the clear soft plastic had yellowed with age, but when he tested it, it was fine. He shoved it in the bag along with a pair of overalls he used whenever he worked on his car, and a black cloth baseball cap with a faded orange O's embroidered on the front, and a small backpack. He undid the packaging that held a blonde straight-haired wig and tried it on. The hall mirror reflected a shocking image. He was not meant to be blonde!

The grandfather clock chimed eleven times. He removed the wig and added to the bag then raced upstairs and changed into good jeans, a grey v-neck tee-shirt, his oldest blue shirt and a navy blazer. His passport went into his front jeans pocket with his wallet. As a final thought he grabbed an old pair of sunglasses and put them in his pocket. Satisfied he was ready, he phoned for a cab.

Tommy was confident he had not been followed, but just in case, he made a very deliberate show of entering City Airport and walking up to the counter. Instead of buying a ticket, he made an enquiry about the Edinburgh flights and had them print out information. He hoped to curious onlookers who may be lurking in the shadows that it looked like he had purchased a ticket. He casually sauntered to the WH Smith stall and bought a copy of the Financial Times.

Tommy sat and read for twenty minutes before heading towards the boarding gate when the Edinburgh flight was called. He ducked into the bathroom just before the security checkpoint. In a cubicle, he quickly removed his jacket and folded it to minimise creasing before carefully packing it into the backpack with the snorkel and newspaper. He shoved the old shirt into the holdall then tucked his hair carefully under the wig before adding the baseball cap and adjusting it to obscure his face without looking too obvious. He hung the sunglasses from the v of his tee-shirt then waited until it was unlikely that anyone who had seen him enter the bathroom was still around. After a quick check in the mirror, he exited and made his way to the lockers. Five pounds secured him a 48 hour locker. He had no intention of returning and the contents would be abandoned. He had made sure there were no identifying marks on it. It would just look like forgotten excess baggage.

Keeping his head low Tommy held his phone to his face as if taking a call. He slowly meandered to the front entrance, put his sunglasses on and mingled with a group of recently arrived passengers. He walked with them across to the DLR but instead of catching the train back towards Canary Wharf, he took the one to Woolwich Arsenal. He chose the busiest carriage and tried to blend into the crowd. Aware of the cameras mounted on the roof, he did not look up until he had pulled the newspaper from the backpack and wrapped the broadsheet around him like a cocoon.

At Woolwich, he changed to the National Rail, avoiding the CCTV as much as possible as he found his platform. He had timed it so that he was on an express train. He sat in the rear of the carriage and again used his fumbling and newspaper routine to avoid the cameras.

As the train clattered towards Gillingham, he ran through the plan to make sure everything was right. He had outwitted so many criminals over the years that he was sure he could execute a crime. That did not change his guilt. If he was not afraid that someone in MI6 was likely to come after them, he would never consider what they were about to do.

He alighted at Chatham. A quick scan of the station as the train slowed to a stop told him there were six CCTV cameras. Two were behind him, one at the far end of the platform, and three between his carriage and the exit. An elderly woman man stood and toddled to the door.

"May I assist you with your bags, ma'am?"

The woman, in her eighties, spied him suspiciously. "If you'd lift the big one off the train, I'd be grateful."

Tommy began to chat with her and continued to walk with her as they climbed the stairs. Her bag was quite heavy so he insisted on carrying it up the stairs to the exit. Outside the station, several cameras mounted high on poles moved constantly as they scanned the street.

"Do you need me to help you to your car?" he asked.

"No."

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you. Enjoy your day." He turned and began to move away.

"I'm going to the bus stop."

Tommy turned back. "I'm walking past there. Let me help you."

Carrying the bag was good cover. It looked as if he was travelling with the woman. Kent cameras were monitored by different companies to London. By the time any MI6 agents realised he was not going to Edinburgh and pieced together his movements, he and Barbara would hopefully be in France.

Instead of returning to the same road, Tommy exited onto the busier main road. At his first opportunity, he ducked into a side street and zigzagged his way through the backstreets towards his destination. It added twice the time to his walk but he only spotted one camera which he was able to avoid.

Subterfuge was exhilarating but tiring, and he was relieved to see a green and white Kombi van parked near the entrance to the Great Lines Heritage Park. He walked past and tapped lightly on the side. He made no attempt to acknowledge the van or the driver and kept walking up the path under a canopy of oaks. The Kombi drove up to the first lane then turned away from him as he continued to walk south.

Deep in the park there was a bend in the path. The Kombi was waiting with the side door open about three inches. He walked up, slid the door open, and stepped inside. Before he had closed the door, Barbara had begun to move off.

"Any trouble?" she asked.

"No, I avoided the cameras as much as I could and I'm sure no one followed me. They would have needed a team of ten."

Tommy crouched behind her seat. The van had been stripped of seats and converted into a camper van. There was a narrow bed on one side and a small table and cooking space on the other. He was squashed into the space where a portable fridge would be stored.

"I barely recognise you, so it would take MI6 a few hours to trace you. Is it wrong to say I find this fun?"

"It would be fun if wasn't dangerous."

Barbara drove back to the main road and turned east towards Rainham. Five miles down the road she turned south. "We'll reach Bredhurst Woods in about ten minutes."

"I'll start to prepare."

* * *

The coppiced woodland had large areas of chalk grassland surrounding heavily forested sections. Tommy and Barbara had used the internet to select an area of old growth with a dense canopy to hide their van while they prepared themselves. Barbara navigated past landmarks and finally found the lonely track they wanted. The track narrowed to two dusty wheel-ruts in the long grass. One side was bounded by a timber rail fence that had seen better days. Several rails, green with age, had rotted and fallen at odd angles. The fence disappeared when the grass merged into straggly forest. The further she drove, the denser the canopy became. After the track ran out she followed a broad gap in the trees. The temperature had dropped several degrees, and the shadowy light made her jump at things that were not there.

"This should do," Tommy called.

Barbara stopped the van and climbed into the back. "Are you sure about this?" she asked.

"Yes. We have to find out . Besides, someone might already want me dead if they know Charles was in contact with me." Tommy reached out and took Barbara's hand. "Whatever happens, I love you."

"I love you too. Under other circumstances, this might be a nice private spot to convince each other."

Tommy grinned at her. "We shouldn't leave that sort of DNA evidence in the van."

Barbara nodded. "I know."

Tommy kissed her hand. "They'd struggle to find any in the woods. There's a little grassy patch about fifty yards over there."

"Tommy! I was joking."

He moved closer. "I'm not. We still have three hours before we move."

"Hmm, is that long enough to convince me?"

Tommy pulled her into his embrace. "No, but it'd be a start."

* * *

An hour later they had pulled the leaves from their hair and after another lingering kiss, moved back into the van. Tommy began to unpack the box. He held up a screwdriver. "I hope this works."

"Me too. Being arrested for human trafficking holds no appeal."

Barbara helped as Tommy undid the mountings for the bed. They removed it from the van and turned it around. Normally it held drawers for storage, but Barbara had removed them at her flat. Without them there would be enough space for Tommy to hide. They manoeuvred it back into position with the drawer holes against the van wall. Tommy used a portable drill to screw it in place before creating a small hole in one end through which he carefully fitted the end of the snorkel. "That should be enough air."

"And if it's not?"

"It will be."

Barbara was less convinced. "It better be."

"Help me with my make up." Tommy laid everything out on the top of the bed in front of a small mirror. "These things are hard to get on." He dipped his comb in water and began to comb his hair flat against his head.

"It'd be easier if you had shorter hair!" she said as he struggled to pull the balding cap over his head. Eventually they had it in place. Barbara carefully trimmed around his ears then tucked the long ends of the cap under his tee-shirt. "You look so…"

"Bald?"

"Different."

She watched as he gently rolled the cap back and applied gum to his skin. He smoothed the cap back into place then stippled liquid latex over the tight edges around his forehead and cheeks to blend into his skin.

"We have to wait a few minutes for this to dry."

"Then what?"

"Brush it with a powder puff then I can apply the prosthetics."

Ten minutes later, Tommy looked like a skinhead who had lost too many fights. He had padded out his nose, used pads to minimise his cheekbones and fatten his face, then added a piece to his chin to look like saggy jowls.

"Bloody hell!"

Tommy laughed. "Scary, isn't it?"

"You look like I should arrest you."

"Rather self-defeating, I think."

Next he dabbed on the grease paint and realistically blended the makeup to be a uniform colour. He then added some highlights. The prosthetics and makeup had completely changed the shape of his face. "Help me with the hair."

Barbara held up a ring of crepe wool hair. When they were happy it in the right place, she carefully painted glue on the cap then worked around his skull pressing the hair into place. "Voila!"

"I'm not going to age well," he said with a sigh.

"You won't be bald though or have saggy bits."

"You don't know that. Anyway, help me into my overalls then I'm ready."

A minute later Barbara made one last check of everything. "You're sure?"

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Positive. I love you."

"That wasn't what I need reassurance about."

"I know. I wanted to add that. It'll be fine. I can't kiss you properly with this on."

"Just keep breathing."

"I promise. See you in France."

Tommy carefully climbed under the bed while she lifted on end. Barbara slowly lowered it into place. "Have you got your snorkel?"

"Yeth." The sound was muffled but came through the snorkel which was just protruding from the hole which was well hidden from casual view.

"Comfortable?"

"Yeth."

"I'm going to screw it back down now."

"Okay."

Barbara replaced the screws and did them up so that the bed was anchored back in place. She knew it would be cramped inside the space. "You okay?"

"Yeth."

"Okay. I love you," she said as she packed everything away.

"Yeth."

* * *

It took Barbara 45 minutes to drive to Folkestone along the M20. Before she entered the line for the Chunnel, she pulled over at the toilet block. "You okay?"

"Yeth. A bith hoth."

"The sign says crossing time is in ten minutes, so I'm on the next one. Sit tight."

Barbara took a deep breath then approached the immigration checkpoint. "Good afternoon."

"Afternoon," the officer grunted. "How long will you be in France?"

"I'm heading north from there. Meeting some friends in Switzerland for a few days."

"Open the back, please."

Barbara was pleased the man did not have a dog or a heat-sensor. He inspected the van. He looked under the mattress, kicked the side panel of the bed and tried to lift it. Satisfied it was secure, he exited, scanned her passport and with a curt nod said, "enjoy your trip."

Trying not to look relieved, she climbed back into the van and drove slowly along the marked driveway. Ten minutes later she was aboard the train, waiting for it to leave for Calais.


	5. Chapter 5

Breathing was easier than he thought but when he felt himself drifting off to sleep, Tommy was worried he was not getting enough oxygen. He took a deep breath just as the train started to move. So far, so good.

He wished he had thought about a cushion for his head. The side of his neck ached and there was no room to move his arm. His box was warm too, and with the movement of the train, his knee was banging painfully into a metal upright. He groaned and shuffled a bit further back.

In a box, devoid of clues or the ability to see his watch, Tommy had a new appreciation for Einstein. Time was indeed relative. He knew the journey took twenty minutes but it felt like twenty hours. He sighed with relief when the van's engine coughed to life and it slowly bumped down the ramp.

The next twenty minutes also went slowly, but far faster than those on the train. He listened anxiously as Barbara cleared French Immigration then lay back while she drove to the place they had chosen. His heart beat faster when she finally pulled the van to a halt. He heard her door close and the one on the side slide open.

"You still alive?"

"Yeth."

"Thank God. Okay give me a minute or two to get you out of there."

The electric screwdriver reverberated in his chamber making him feel vaguely nauseous. When Barbara finally lifted the seat he spat out the snorkel and scrambled into the gap at her feet.

"I'm pleased to be out of there!"

"I was worried you wouldn't have enough air. It seemed to take forever to get here."

Tommy pulled her into his arms and hugged her. "I'm fine. Now, remember the plan?"

Barbara wriggled in his arms. "I'm not an idiot. Of course I remember."

"Sorry, that's not what I meant. I was trying to say not to forget my coffee."

Barbara smiled up at him. "I won't but we could both do with something stronger."

"Maybe in Zurich. I'll get going. Now where's my kiss?"

After Barbara obliged, he opened the van door and slipped into the night.

* * *

The French roadhouse was largely deserted and had the vague smell of antiseptic and patchouli, a combination that made Barbara think of clean hippies. She smiled as she realised that the description aptly fitted her appearance, a middle aged woman in a tie-dyed tee-shirt and faded jeans driving a Kombi camper.

"A large coffee please," she said to the waitress, who shrugged and gave her an unapologetic faux smile.

Not interested in playing the 'I refuse to acknowledge your order because you didn't ask me in French' game, Barbara stabbed her finger on the picture menu glued to the bench. She met her the woman halfway with a surly, "un."

Barbara paid in cash, thanks to Tommy's stash of Euros, and his paranoia about leaving too much of a trail. She took her coffee and found a table by the window. The car park was largely empty except for several lorries. The drivers congregated down one end of the road house, and Barbara avoided eye contact. She was not memorable, dressed in jeans and her jacket which largely hid her shirt, but she did not want to do anything someone might remember, and she certainly did not want to engage in conversation.

The coffee was warm and mediocre; par for a roadhouse brew. She drank it slowly and kept her eye on the time. She needed to kill about thirty minutes without looking as if she was waiting. She checked her phone, pretending to be using social media, then took a long toilet break. When she returned she ordered a take away coffee through a combination of pointing and pidgin French.

When she reached the Kombi she had used her half hour. She stowed the coffee safely in the cup holder conveniently added by the previous owner and started the engine. Pulling back out onto the highway, she hoped Tommy had made it to their rendezvous. She drove slightly below the speed limit and sighed heavily when she saw a bald man standing under a light and hitching a ride. He was in full view of the CCTV.

* * *

Tommy walked the route he had planned from Google Maps. He skirted around the edge of the roadhouse and into the forest where a trail led north then turned again towards the highway. He followed it for about two kilometres then walked along beside the highway. He trudged half-heartedly hoping that no one stopped to offer him a lift. He reached the light he had chosen and surreptitiously glanced at the CCTV camera. He quickly calculated the angle that would show him being picked up. He stood and signalled to a few passing cars, choosing ones he assessed would not stop.

It was a relief to see the Kombi lumber into sight. He held out his thumb but tried to make sure he did not signal any harder than he had to other cars. Barbara slowed to a stop about fifty metres past him, and he ran to catch up. He climbed into the vehicle. "Hi. Any trouble?"

"Hiya. None. Your coffee is there in the cup holder."

"Thanks. I'll have it in a minute. There is one more CCTV camera about a mile up the road near the next turnoff. Once we are past there, it'll be fine."

"All this subterfuge is actually fun."

"Not as much fun as being in bed with you."

"Tommy!"

"It's the truth." Tommy turned to face her. "You mean the world to me, Barbara."

Barbara kept her eyes on the road but gave him a broad grin. "Only because I'm good in bed?"

"You're much better than good. No, because you understand me. You put up with me where others wouldn't, and you love me."

"I do."

"So… I was thinking." He paused.

"Hmm?"

"After we sort this out, we shouldn't waste time. We should get married as soon as possible. Hey, watch the road!"

Barbara spun the wheel to correct her original swerve. "Married? You and me?"

"Unless you are in love with someone else?"

"No, no of course not."

Tommy had expected her to be as excited as him about the idea. "So?" He asked fearing her rejection.

"I always imagined you proposing on blended knee by a waterfall or something, not dressed in a bald wig sitting in a Kombi."

Tommy laughed softly. "That's a fair point. But you imagined it?"

"Sometimes, on long lonely nights."

"So did I. Don't give me an answer now. I'll ask properly later. But just in case anything happens, you know how I wanted to spend the rest of our lives."

"Don't say that. I can't think about losing you. Not now. I know we are committed to this, but I want you safe, Tommy."

"We will be."

"You can't promise that."

"No, but I can promise I will do everything I can to be with you."

* * *

When they finally reached the tourist park near the lake in Zurich, they had been driving for nearly eight hours. "Hide in the back," Barbara said before she turned into the park.

The attendant was a teenager who seemed totally disinterested in Barbara or her van. She asked for a quiet location and was assigned a plot right at the back of the park well away from the shirtless men and bikini-clad women who occupied the other campsites.

Exhausted, they both decided to sleep. Tommy propped himself up on pillows to minimise stress on his disguise. Barbara snuggled next to him and they wrapped their arms around each other.

"I love you," he said as he kissed the top of her head.

"So you should. I love you too."

It was mid-morning by the time they woke. Barbara had a quick shower in the amenities block while Tommy used a flannel to wash the most important parts before pulling his suit from the bag he had left in her car. He shook the creases out of the soft wool blend. As the park was out of the city, Tommy planned to walk into town while Barbara caught a bus. The walk would warm the wool and allow any remaining creases to fall out.

Lynley was worried that Barbara might be stressed by dealing with a foreign country even though the Swiss were always courteous to visitors. Nonetheless he was relieved to see her alight from the bus at their agreed rendezvous.

"Any problems?"

"No, a nice woman showed me how to pay. You?"

"No, it was a very pleasant walk in the sun after that box. Right, well let's split up again and meet the second point in an hour. Just observe the bank. If it's safe order a white coffee. I'll look when I go past. If you order a black one, I'll know there's an issue and I'll keep walking."

"Yep, black smoke no pope, white smoke new pope."

"What?"

"Voting for a pope. That's how I'll remember what colour coffee to order."

Tommy grinned at her. "Now we have that squared away, if you are in danger, any sort of danger, or if I don't come out or get arrested, leave and go directly to the airport and fly home."

"I'll be fine, Tommy. Are you sure the bank won't be expecting Tommy Lynley to rock up?"

"Positive. Charlie would have left a security check only I could answer but no photo ID will be needed and no names. I don't think he'd want people knowing I've been here."

"Yeah, makes sense. If MI6 start chasing someone who doesn't exist it will take them longer, but would he think like that?"

"If he did leave instructions for me as Lynley or Asherton, I have non-photo ID. I doubt a bank official from Zurich would know what I look like."

"But if you get arrested?"

"They won't fall for this fake face for long. I'd be exposed anyway. Time and being alert is my only advantage in this."

"No, you have me too."

Tommy smiled. "True. I'd bet you against the whole of MI6 any day."

"You'd better go in."

"Watch to see if anyone else seems to be watching the bank, or me, and check for possible vantage points in other buildings. I won't look over this way at all, but inside the building I will be able to see you before I step out. I'll come out and walk straight to the river."

"By the bridge."

"Yes, the one near the clock tower."

"Okay, 007. I'll see you there."

Tommy crossed the road and as planned, strolled around the block. When he returned he did not immediately see Barbara. Just as he was starting to worry, he noticed her sitting at a cafe with a large coffee. He smiled to see her 'reading' a German language newspaper. She was taking her undercover role to heart. He only hoped no one spoke to her in German. He strolled past her. Neither acknowledged the other in the slightest. He was relieved to see her coffee was white.

Externally, bank building was unimpressive but solid. A marble entrance led into a small foyer then opened up into an ornate main room. Tommy looked up. The ceiling stretched three stories above his head and was decorated with an oval gold relief reminiscent of a biblical scene but depicting a trader exchanging goods for coin. The ceiling was supported by eight fat Doric columns of brown marble, each inscribed with the bank's insignia. The walls were painted in a pale gold that made Tommy feel vaguely nauseous.

Between two columns were gilded gates that led to the vaults. Two armed security guards patrolled behind them and three more were posted around the room. Tommy walked up to the desk. An officious man dressed in a well-tailored grey suit looked him up and down.

"May I help you?" he asked in accentless English.

Wondering how he recognised him as being English, Tommy answered with a curt, "ja." He then pulled a piece of paper from his coat and pushed it across the desk.

The man looked at the paper then at Tommy. He typed the number into his computer which was hidden from view by the desk. "There is a twenty point security check, Mr Smith. Please follow me."

Tommy felt the sweat running between his skin and the prosthetic mask. It tickled, but he resisted the urge to scratch. He only hoped it did not run out on his shirt and produce brown stains from the makeup. He was taken beyond the grill and escorted into a small windowless room. A camera sat prominently on the wall in front of him.

"Wait here, Sir. I shall return in five minutes."


	6. Chapter 6

Tommy tried to relax, knowing he was being scrutinised by someone monitoring the security camera. He was glad that the mask helped disguise his nerves.

The man returned with an iPad. "Sir, if you would kindly complete the questionnaire. There are twenty questions which must be matched exactly to the answers we have been provided."

"Certainly."

Tommy waited for the man to leave before looking at the iPad. The first question was easy - what is the closest railway station to school? Tommy typed 'Windsor and Eton Riverside'. A green tick appeared and the next question rolled onto the screen.

There were then a series of nine questions related to Eton, mainly names of schoolmasters and fellow pupils. Tommy felt comfortable as he answered them. Three more questions related to their schooldays adventures that were perhaps best forgotten. At the next question he hesitated. To whom did you lose your virginity? It was a simple question and of course Tommy knew the real answer, but had Charlie? Lynley tapped the stylus against his bottom lip and tried to recall whether in a fit of teenage bravado he had bragged about something that never happened. It was possible that he had exaggerated his relationship with Anne Hopkins, Lord Pendlebury's daughter. They had been rather passionate in the old boat shed one night after a Scholar's Ball. Did Charlie know about what really happened that summer? Did he know the real story? Tommy took a deep breath and typed the name of his cougar lover. He paused then hit Submit.

A green tick appeared and Tommy led out a sigh. "You cagey old bugger, Charlie."

The rest of the answers were easy. Tommy called the bank official. "Thank you, I'm done."

The official took the iPad. "Thank you, Mr Smith."

The official did not flinch. He was clearly used to dealing discreetly with such obvious aliases. It was common. Even at the Swiss bank Tommy used he had been issued with a ridiculous alias for dealing with bank officials. Mr Smith was far easier to pronounce than his usual Mr Cornwallen which, to his bemusement, Swiss accents more often than not converted to Mr Cornwallop.

"Is there a safe deposit box?"

The official raised one eyebrow. "No, Mr Smith. I shall bring you the item we are holding in trust."

Years of remaining aloof and neutral helped Tommy smile neutrally. His face itched under the mask and sweat was running down his back. He hoped it was not visible on the back of his jacket. It was ten minutes before the man reappeared clutching a small black leather satchel. "Your package, Mr Smith."

"Thank you." Tommy took the small black satchel that was only marginally bigger than his wallet, and placed it in his inside jacket pocket.

"Will you be leaving anything in return?"

"Me? No, not today thank you."

"Very well, Mr Smith. Is there anything else our bank can assist you with?"

"No, thank you. You have been very efficient."

The man smiled briefly, nodded, then escorted Tommy back to the main vestibule. "Good day, Mr Smith."

Now Tommy nodded. "Good day."

He walked confidently to the front door. Across the road he could see Barbara still sitting at the cafe 'reading' her paper. Relieved, he strode through the door and turned left. He hoped Barbara had seen him, but he was confident she was watching carefully.

* * *

Barbara saw Tommy exit the bank. She waited another twenty minutes then paid her bill for four coffees. As she walked away in the opposite direction to where Tommy had gone, she searched for a toilet and found one near the river. She inserted her euro coin and entered the clean capsule and instantly felt she had walked across time into the future. Flashing buttons gave her a menu. Selecting a basic service before tentatively squatting over the seat, Barbara smiled as the gentle tinkling sounds of a Waterfall came from a speaker above her head. After a water wash, air dry, hand sanitation and a mist of deodoriser, she escaped back to reality. The chime of the church bell struck four.

Barbara walked south beside the river but meandered through the streets of Lindenhof and Old Town following a tourist map she had picked up at the tourist information kiosk. An hour later, satisfied that she was not being followed, she headed to the lake and waited for the bus to take her back to the camping ground.

She opened the sliding door of the van and smiled at Tommy who was sitting with his feet on the seat. He had already removed his mask and makeup and was dressed only in his trunks. "Hiya."

"Any trouble?"

"None. You?" Barbara closed the door behind her and twisted around the small table, almost falling into his lap.

"No, everything went smoothly. Charlie had left a series of questions to answer that only I would know. One was tricky, but I thought 'what would Barbara do?' So I followed my gut and was honest. Turned out to be correct."

"Of course."

Tommy gently stroked her face. "What?"

"I'd almost forgotten how handsome you are without the disguise."

"I'd almost forgotten what it was like to not itch. And we have to do it all again tomorrow, but while I don't have it on..." Tommy began to nuzzle into her neck.

"Oh no. I didn't sit baking in the sun for three hours just for you to get randy. What was in the safety deposit box?"

"No box. They gave me this." Tommy laid the small black satchel on the table.

Barbara picked it up and turned it over. It was sewn completely around, effectively sealing its contents. "What's in it?"

"Sorry, I left my x-ray vision glasses in London."

"Don't you want to know?" she demanded.

"Yes, of course. I thought we should open it together and very carefully. Who knows what other surprises Charlie has for us."

Barbara hunted around in her handbag and came up with a small penknife. "Do you want to do the honours?"

Tommy carefully worried a small hole in the stitching and slowly undid an edge. He peeked inside then unpicked a larger gap. "It a velvet bag." He pulled the bag out and undid the drawstring. In the bag was another parcel wrapped in bubble wrap.

"This worse than pass-the-parcel."

Tommy laughed briefly as he tore open the wrapping. Inside was a small black box. It had no obvious hinge and the shiny Chinese lacquered finish gave no purchase to prise it open. He turned it over and groaned. "There's a number lock."

"Show me." Barbara almost snatched it from him in her eagerness. "Any ideas?"

"None."

"Charlie planted it in a way you would be able to find it, so he must have thought you'd know how to open it."

"He might have overestimated me."

Barbara bit her lip. "Come on, Tommy. You must know. Some numbers from school? Dates? Locker numbers? Football positions? Anything?"

"Eton doesn't have lockers."

Barbara snorted. "Don't be pedantic."

"I'm not. I was…"

"That's it!" Barbara cut across him. "The numbers we thought were the safety deposit box are for this."

"Clever. Here. 7831208176. No, that's ten digits, there is only six tumblers. Damn."

Barbara rolled the box in her hand then placed it on the table. "Did you have any more codes?"

"No."

They sat staring at the box.

"Okay. Try 786976."

She watched as he carefully turned the tumblers. There was a small click. Tommy pulled gently and the lid swung open. "How did you know that?"

"Working left to right, I added numbers to be no more than nine. Three plus one plus two plus zero, and eight plus one."

"Clever thinking. I would never have guessed that."

"It was on a National Geographic documentary a month or so ago. Something to do with the Chinese I think."

"Ah, that would make sense. Thank goodness for Nat Geo."

Barbara gestured for him to hurry. "What's in there?"

"A letter of some sort." He pulled it opened and groaned. "In code."

Barbara glanced at the three pages of numerals. "At least there are spaces between words. I have a pen and spare paper in my bag."

"This will take ages."

"Yeah. I'll go and buy some food. I passed a shop selling schnitzel sandwiches about 200 yards down the road."

* * *

It took Tommy an hour to decode the letter, but they had stopped for ten minutes to eat the sandwiches. He read it again then handed it to Barbara. "We have to go to Singapore."

Barbara quickly scanned the letter. "Holy fu… hell. Do you believe this?"

Tommy nodded. "If it's a hoax Charlie's gone to elaborate measures, including dying. Yes, I believe that he believed this."

"Do you have any idea how big shipping in Singapore is?"

"Something else you saw on Nat Geo?" Barbara gave him a withering look. "Sorry, yes, I know. It's the world's busiest port."

"Ha! No, Shanghai is bigger now. Nat Geo one, Tommy nil."

Now Tommy glared at her. "I stand corrected." Barbara smiled and gave him a kiss. He eagerly kissed her back betraying that he had not been offended.

"If we go there, Tommy, all we have here is a container number from Black Dragon Shipping Lines. No wharf location, no berth number, not even a colour. We'd be looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"No, but… I think this is a job for experts. Even if by some miracle we found the container what are we going to do? Call 999 and report we have a container of nuclear precursors awaiting shipment to some madman in a backwater of Asia so he can start a war and blame the current government? We'd be carted away and committed."

"Unless we can prove the money trail and who stands to profit."

"Even so." Barbara re-read the letter. "He contacted James Thornbury. Who's he?"

"He was at Eton. He was two or three years ahead of us. He didn't win a place at Oxford or Cambridge and went to Sheffield University of all places."

Barbara hit his hand with the back of hers. "Don't be such a snob."

"I didn't mean it that way, but Eton boys generally don't go to red brick universities."

Barbara muttered something Tommy chose to ignore. "So what's his significance?"

"I am fairly certain he works for MI6."

"Ah, so Charlie trusted him, but this bloke betrayed him?"

"It reads that way. Money drives the best of men to do evil. Look here, he says, 'Do not trust anyone. The Etonian code does not apply.' Eton was strong on loyalty and trust, so for him to specifically warn me, I need to take him seriously."

"Do you think MI6 want this to happen? Or just Thornbury?"

"I sincerely hope the latter. I'd hate to think our government would sanction some letting off dirty bombs, even in Asia."

"I hope you're right."

"We need to be even more cautious now."

"I know. At least he confirmed it is human trafficking and drugs funding everything. These are not going to be pleasant people, Tommy. And what exactly are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I think we have to go to Singapore and see if we can find the shipping container."

But first we need to sleep then slip back into England."

"Sleep?"

Tommy gave her a gentle kiss. "Eventually."


	7. Chapter 7

"Morning." Tommy ran the tip of his finger along Barbara's bare arm from elbow to shoulder. "Sleep okay?"

She groaned then nestled her face against his chest. "As well as a two-inch foam mattress allows. What time is it?"

"About four-thirty."

"In the morning? Bloody hell. I should be asleep. What time do you want to leave? It takes this bus over eight hours to drive to Calais."

"I think we should change our plans. I believe MI6 will be tracking me, even if it's only Thornbury abusing his position. Whether they know about you, us, I don't know. I doubt it, but we can't be sure."

"What are you saying, Tommy?"

"I want them to think I was hiking in Scotland rather than here, so I believe we should take the ferry from IJmuiden to Newcastle. Then I can head north to Edinburgh and fly back while you drive back to London. We can both be home by Monday. Hopefully, it puts them a few days behind in tracking where I was, but once I update my booking to Singapore to include you, they will know about you too. If you still want to go."

"Thomas Lynley! I'm not even going to answer that."

He cuddled her closer. "Sorry."

"The ferry? Isn't it an overnight crossing?"

"Yes, I believe so."

Barbara pushed Tommy away and sat up. "You can't stay in that box overnight."

Undeterred by her fierce protectiveness, he smiled up at her and put his hand on her arm. "I thought about that too. If we buy two hinges, I can lock it from the inside then open it on the ferry. If we string a sheet behind the front seat, no one will see me in here or think it strange for a Kombi."

Barbara moved lower but still not back into his arms. "What about food, and if you need the loo?"

"We can buy something for me to eat, and I can use an old bottle." He tried his best smile. When she nestled back against his chest, he knew she was convinced.

"How long have been awake to figure all that out?"

"Not long. I worked something else out too."

"What?"

Tommy moved his face next to her ear. "We have an hour or so before we have to get moving."

"Then we'd better not waste it."

* * *

Tommy applied a much simpler disguise for the trip home. He glued two pieces of prosthetic skin to broaden his cheeks and added a wider, arched nose. Some makeup blended over the top would fool most people they might encounter until England. To finish his look, he combed out some dark crepe wool hair and pinned it inside a baseball cap Barbara had found in the toilet block to fall as long hair just above his shoulder blades. He pulled on clean clothes from the bag, allowed Barbara to position the cap, then used his fingers to roughly comb his own hair to fall over his left eye.

Barbara teased the fake hair through her fingers. "This feels surprisingly real. You're definitely better as a brunette."

"Thank you. Now, give me thirty minutes head start and then head to Turgi. I'll catch the train and meet you there."

"Is all this subterfuge really necessary?"

"Probably not, but the main CCTV cameras they will check first will be around the railway stations, airports and highways. I want them to think I'm headed to Geneva - if they recognise me." He took Barbara in his arms. "I love you."

She kissed him hard. "Yes, 007, I love you too. Now get going before I change my mind."

"About loving me?"

"No, about letting you out of my sight."

Tommy pulled her into a tight hug. "I've always liked your protective side. Right from the time, you told Nies I was sleeping with you. I'm sorry that wasn't true."

"Yeah, might have saved us a lot of... Nah, it would never have worked then. Now, are you going? We have a ferry to catch that won't wait for us."

* * *

Barbara was relieved to see Tommy exiting the station. She had parked on a side street where her rearview mirror had a clear view of the arched entrance. The only security camera was on the main street, and her van was well outside its range.

Tommy smiled at her as he swung open the passenger door. "Swiss trains are very efficient. I'm right on time."

"Hello, Barbara. Nice to see you, Barbara. Did you have any trouble, Barbara?"

He looked alarmed. "Did you?"

"No, but that's not the point."

"Sorry. If it's any consolation, I missed you."

"No, I'm sorry. All this Bond stuff is getting to me. I keep looking at everyone as if they are out to kill me."

"I should never have let you become embroiled in my issues."

"You'd rather I was still at home thinking you'd abandoned me?"

He sighed heavily. "No. I just wish Charlie had chosen someone else."

Barbara put her hand on his arm. "I'm not. Not really. He trusted you because he knew what type of man you are. And we might never have said anything to each other if we hadn't been prompted. I don't regret a minute of that."

"When this is over, I think we should quit the force and settle into quiet domesticity."

"And you think quiet domesticity will satisfy either of us?"

"Ok, what about noisy domesticity with triplets?"

Barbara's eyebrows shot skyward. "Triplets?"

Tommy grinned at her. "All our family at once."

Barbara started the engine. "If you're the one giving birth, feel free. Now, which way to IJmuiden?"

* * *

The drive was uneventful, and they had managed to finalise their plans. They had stopped and paid cash for the hinges in an anonymous large hardware store outside Cologne. Tommy had fitted them as Barbara drove along the surprisingly empty motorway.

About ten miles outside of the port, they stopped for food and a toilet break at a busy service station. Tommy took his empty drink bottle with him in his pocket along with some sad-looking sandwich triangles sealed in a plastic box displaying the soggy meat filling.

"Give me a kiss," Tommy insisted as they climbed inside the van.

"Careful of your makeup. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Fine. I'll latch myself in for the inspection, and once you park on the vehicle deck, I'll wait until I feel the ferry leave then hop out. I'll probably be more comfortable than you. I'll happily pay for a cabin for you."

"No, hippies don't have cabins, they sit up all night on the main deck. I'll be fine. The security cameras will see I'm alone and I will be careful."

"I have to say; you're not a very convincing hippie."

"But I am convincing at being too poor to afford a cabin."

"So will I book you in Economy to Singapore?"

"I assumed…" Barbara's voice trailed off. "Only if you're sitting next to me." She laughed at the undisguised horror on his face. "Thought so. The pointy end will be fine. If I'm going to die in some malaria-infested Asian hell-hole..."

"Singapore is a clean, modern city."

"Yeah, I know." Barbara ran her hand through his hair then kissed him. "You better hide. The ferry leaves soon."

"I'll be fine. See you in Newcastle."

* * *

Barbara slept fitfully on the ferry. The sea was choppy, and she felt vaguely ill a few times. She had not dared have a beer. As the ship slowed and manoeuvred against the berth, she went to the bathroom to freshen up. She had to hurry when her vehicle deck was paged and arrived just before the first cars began to drive off.

She let out a long breath when she saw the Kombi sitting exactly as she had left it. She climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. She did not dare speak until she had cleared Customs and pulled out of the terminal and onto the main road towards Newcastle.

"We're clear," she called into the back.

She heard Tommy unlatch the box, but he did not speak. She frowned. "You okay?"

"Fine, just stretching," Tommy said from behind the curtain. "It was much more comfortable although those sandwiches were ordinary, to say the least. You?"

"Yeah, tired. I slept a bit."

"Did you manage to find a good spot?"

"Yeah. I'll drop you at Fellgate Station. You can catch a train there from Sunderland at nine-twenty that goes to Newcastle. The Edinburgh train leaves Newcastle five minutes later from the adjoining platform. The express train takes about ninety minutes to Edinburgh so you should be there a bit after lunch."

"Perfect. I'll wander around then buy another jacket and find a budget chain hotel somewhere. I can use their bathrooms to ditch the disguise. Then I'll book into the Balmoral and make sure I'm seen there, and in the city, on CCTV as me. I'll fly to London in the morning."

Barbara looked up over the A19 and turned into the Tyne Tunnel. "I rang your mobile and left a message. I asked about your hike in the Highlands and said I'd just come back from Europe."

"Good. I will put the battery back into my phone once I take this face off. I'll ring you tonight. What time do you think you'll arrive?"

"I'll go straight done the M1, so about five or six hours."

"Right. Then I'll phone you before dinner. How far to Fellgate?"

"About five minutes."

"I'm going to miss you."

"Me too."

"Drive carefully."

"Yeah. You too. Well not drive, but travel safely."

"I doubt we are in immediate danger. I just want to send them in circles so they don't realise what we were doing in Zurich. Time and surprise might be our only advantages."

"I wish I could kiss you."

"Cosmic."

"Pardon?"

"When you can't do something for real you can do it cosmically."

Tommy chuckled and gave her a cheeky grin. "In that case, I don't think I'll stop with a kiss."

"Hmm, hold that thought. Does that sign say...? Yes. This is our exit."

Tommy glanced at his watch. "Drop me a couple of streets away and keep driving. I'll ring you about six. I love you."

"I love you too, Tommy."

He gave her an affectionate smile as she pulled up to the kerb. He opened the door and without daring to look back, began to walk to the station.

* * *

Tommy bought a newspaper from the boy outside the station entrance. He paid cash for his ticket to Sunderland from the manned desk then lined up in a surprisingly long queue and bought a ticket to Edinburgh from the ticket machine. He knew cash purchases in the machine were hard to trace when there were queues, as the CCTV footage times never matched with the transaction time. The machines relayed sales back to a central booking agency in batches every five or ten minutes to reduce administrative costs, so it was more likely that MI6 would ask the station clerk in the hope he might remember the destination.

It was only a short journey to Newcastle. Tommy kept in the centre of the crowd of exiting commuters. He carefully scanned the station for cameras and smiled when he saw a portable crane with two men in orange fluoro vests serving one of the cameras. Provided with a convenient black spot he quickly moved through the crowd and onto the Newcastle train. Keeping his head low so that the onboard cameras did not have a clear view of his face, Tommy walked through the carriages and slipped into one of the toilets. He locked the door and waited until the train pulled away from the station before he emerged and found a seat directly under a camera. He knew from experience that the cameras overlapped but that at the edges the footage was less distinct.

* * *

Barbara's journey was uneventful. She stopped for fuel and food at a service centre near Wetherby then drove straight through. The hardest task was finding a parking spot near her flat. She had just finished showering when her phone rang.

"Havers."

"Hello, stranger."

"Hi, Tommy. How was your hike?"

"Good. I had clear skies and a pleasant time. I'm back in Edinburgh now. My flight leaves a bit before ten in the morning, so I'll be back in Belgravia after lunch. Why don't you come over around two?"

"I will. I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

"Me too. I've been lonely without you. That's why I've booked you a ticket to come with me to Singapore. We leave tomorrow night at eleven. So bring your bag when you come over. And don't forget your passport."

Barbara played along. They had not discussed this, but she understood his intentions. "Singapore! Oh, that would be wonderful. How exotic. What should I pack?"

"Not much. We can buy stuff there. They have great shopping. It is hot and humid, so pack light."

"Do they have air conditioning?"

Tommy laughed. "Yes, I believe so. You won't melt, except into my arms."

Barbara laughed softly, but that was exactly what she wanted to do. "I wish you were here now."

"So do I. I've missed you desperately."

Barbara knew from his tone that he meant it. "Me too. Safe travels and I'll see you tomorrow."

"I love you, Barbara."

"I know, and it's wonderful. I love you too."

"I don't want to hang up."

"Is this going to be one of those awkward teenage farewells?"

"What?"

"You know. One says goodbye then the other, and they keep going about fifty times."

Tommy laughed. "I never had those calls, so I defer to your experience. Goodnight, my love."

The phone clicked in her ear, but Barbara held it there a few seconds just in case his voice came back on. She sighed then looked around her flat. Where was her white shirt?


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for the long delay. I had a major issue with my iPad upgrade and lost two chapters. I took a few days to recover from my anger and disappointment before finding the energy to rewrite them. They are not as vivid, but they'll do.

* * *

"Bloody hell! Is it always this hot?"

Weary, despite the comfortable lay-flat bed in Business Class, Barbara was not in the mood for the sticky, fetid humidity that assaulted her as she and Tommy stepped from the air-conditioned sanctuary of Changi Airport into the Singapore evening.

Tommy smiled and shrugged. "I think so."

As they walked the few steps towards the stainless steel rails that funnelled visitors towards the taxi rank, sweat beaded on her face and began to trickle down behind her ears. "Great. I guess at least I will sweat off all that food on the plane."

Tommy looked at his watch then fiddled with the dial to adjust it to local time. "So you don't want dinner?"

"Dinner? What time is it? Must be about eleven o'clock."

"Just before seven. I think it's about half an hour to the hotel."

"Maybe a pint in the bar and we can see. I might be hungry." She pulled her lips tight when she saw Tommy's reaction. "What? Don't smirk at me, Mister. I saw you flirting with the stewardess to get another dessert."

"I was not flirting. I was just being charming."

"Sorry, I missed the subtleties."

Tommy's smile broadened into a cheeky grin. "You weren't jealous?" Barbara shook her head. "Oh, you were." Tommy draped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick hug. "That's sweet."

She brushed his arm away. "I was not jealous. Just embarrassed for you making a fool of yourself. As if she'd be interested in... No!" Barbara's eyes widened as Tommy waved the business card the hostess had slipped him in her face. "Tell me she's not staying at our hotel."

"I didn't ask. Why?"

"Because they hang people here for murder."

Tommy looked at her. When she tried to look away, he lifted her chin so she could see his eyes. "You have nothing to fear, from anyone. I love you, Barbara. No one else. But I do love the way your eyes darken like emeralds when you're jealous... or angry." He leant closer and lowered his voice. "Or right at the point of..."

"Number three."

Barbara returned to reality with a thud as the man in a ruby waistcoat, and immaculately pressed grey trousers gestured for them to move to the designated cab. When they had emerged into the heat they had been well back in the line, but the efficient system meant taxis were continually arriving and parking in angled bays that allowed them to drive straight out.

She climbed into the welcome cool of the black Mercedes while Tommy helped the driver with their bags. The cab smelt clean but there was an undertone of spice. Barbara shook her head. She was halfway around the world in a completely foreign environment. It hardly seemed real.

"Welcome to Singapore," the driver said. "Where you go?"

"The Ritz-Carlton, please," Tommy answered.

"First time Singapore?"

"Yes."

"Business? Pleasure?"

"Hopefully a bit of both."

"You want tailor lah? I know best tailor. Also best restaurants. I can take you."

"Very kind of you, but we're tired. We will have a quiet night and start exploring tomorrow."

"You need taxi? I give you good rate. Take my card."

The driver continued to talk, asking questions and making suggestions, no doubt to places run by his friends and relatives. Barbara sat back and looked out the window. As they sped along the freeway, the forest of greenery on both side near the airport gave way to a long, narrow park on their left that bordered the sea. Shops and barbeque areas dotted along the strip. People were jogging, cycling or walking with their families. Young couples sat on benches beneath the sprawling canopies of enormous trees Barbara had never seen before. Between the trunks, hundreds of ribbons of yellow light reflected off the still water silhouetting line after line of small cargo vessels at anchor, all pointing towards the city. It was not like the languid English parks she was used to seeing.

On the other side of the freeway, she was shocked at the number of hi-rise apartment blocks. Many lining the road were modern condominiums but behind were hundreds of concrete hi-rises that looked almost identical except for the pastel trim on the facades.

"Does everyone here live in an apartment?"

The taxi driver grinned at her in the rear vision mirror. "We are a small island, lah. Only five percent live in houses. Most live in HDB or condos."

"HDBs?"

"I was reading on the plane about the government housing," Tommy said. Barbara looked at Tommy and raised her eyebrows, but he continued undeterred. "After independence in 1965, the Housing Development Board, or HDB as everyone calls it, systematically built apartment blocks in a series of new towns around the island and rehoused the population. Before that, most people lived in small isolated villages. They're not like our council flats. They are heavily subsidised, but people own the units under a 99-year lease scheme and can resell them. The government's policy is that owning a stake in the country will drive the right behaviours."

"There's so many."

"You want chilli crab?" the driver asked pointing to a building in the park. "Jumbo. Best Singapore Chilli Crab."

* * *

Tommy could not help but smile at the look on Barbara's face when she stepped into the hotel lobby. Tommy walked over to the counter and checked in leaving her rooted to the spot staring up at the vast, modern sculpture that hung beneath the vaulted glass ceiling.

"Ready?" he asked when he went back to fetch her.

"This place... It's like a cross between Waterloo Station and the Natural History Museum. That thing up there looks like a kid dropped the dinosaur skeleton and hastily glued it back together so no one would notice."

Tommy looked up and laughed. "Someone with no idea what a dinosaur looked like. I'm sure it's an extremely costly artwork. Should I tell them they could have had a child do it?"

Barbara glared at him. "Is that man waiting for us?"

Tommy glanced over at the impassive face of the porter. "Yes, come on. I'm dying to hear your interpretation of our room."

When the porter opened the door to their suite, Tommy thanked him, pressed a generous tip into his hand then closed and locked the door. Barbara stood by the enormous hexagonal window that framed the view.

"Do you like it?"

She turned to look at him. "So much for slipping in Singapore. You booked us into the biggest suite in town."

"Actually no. Far from it. In fact, this is not the best suite in this hotel."

"So you bring me away and penny-pinch, eh?" She turned away, but he knew she was smiling.

Tommy walked over and wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Of course. Can't have you thinking I intend to spoil you for the rest of your life."

"It's incredible!"

Tommy dragged his attention away from kissing her neck and focussed on the view. In the distance, the lights of ships at anchor highlighted Singapore's raison d'être as an epicentre of trade. The spoils of that trade had spawned a city-state full of modern and interesting architecture. On the left side of a large bay was the brash, confident Singapore proudly displaying it's coming of age in the three towers of the Marina Sands Casino and hotel complex, a centrepiece of the revitalised Marina Bay. A sprawling infinity pool linked the top of the towers and looked upriver at the older city that spread in a mix of concrete and glass skyscrapers and lower colonial buildings lining the river bay in front of them.

"What's that thing that looks like a hand?"

Tommy sighed. Barbara was not going to pay attention to him until her curiosity was satisfied. He pulled the guidebook he had picked up at the airport from his pocket and flicked through to find the answer.

"The ArtScience Museum. Says it is designed to be reminiscent of a lotus flower. Each finger is a gallery with a skylight at the end. Sounds interesting. We should go."

"We're not here to sightsee."

"True. Those bubble buildings behind it are the casino I think. At the rear of the towers, over there, see the coloured lights? That's the Gardens By The Bay. All those coloured lights that look like trees, they're the Supertree Grove, and there are two huge glasshouses too but you can only see the tip of one from here."

"All the colours! Think of the power bill."

Tommy threw the book on the desk and began to kiss her neck again. "It was a long flight. We should take a bath."

Barbara leant back against him. "Wicked man."

"Very."

She reached back and grabbed his hips. "A bath sounds good if it'll hold two."

Tommy took her hand and led her to the bedroom with an enormous bed set with crisp, white cotton. "Later," he growled.

The bathroom surprised even him. It also had a sizeable hexagonal window, and set beneath it was a gleaming white bathtub definitely large enough for two. A mirror on the wall at the end of the tub reflected the view. On the opposite wall was a huge marble shower and a separate toilet.

"A bath with a view." He leant over and flicked on the taps.

Barbara laughed. "A view of the city and us."

Tommy smiled innocently. "I hadn't thought of that."

He turned to see Barbara already stripping. He hastily tore at his belt and kicked off his shoes as she shrugged out of her underwear and stepped into the tub.

* * *

"So, are you hungry now?" Tommy said as he reached up pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Reluctantly, Barbara rolled off him and lay beside him, enjoying the warm comfort of his arms. "Yes, but I can't face that heat tonight. I guess a place like this does room service?"

Tommy reached over and grabbed the iPad from the bedside table. "Let's see. Room service. There you go. Select what you fancy. I'll have Singapore noodles and two Tiger beers."

Barbara smiled as she ordered. "Four Tiger beers, one bowl of noodles, and one fish and chips."

"I might take a shower while we wait. Care to join me?"

"I would, but then we might not be finished by the time the meals arrive."

Tommy raised his eyebrows. "In that case, I'll wait." He gave her a quick kiss then stood and went to the wardrobe. He returned with two fluffy robes and slippers.

"Thanks."

Dressed, they walked back into the lounge to wait for their meals. Barbara took the opportunity to again lo9ok at the view. The lights of the buildings were still shining in a myriad of colours. "What's the plan for tomorrow? Go to the docks?"

"No, not yet. Tomorrow afternoon there is a memorial service for Charlie at the British Club. I thought we'd go and see what we can learn from his colleagues and the expats he mixed with."

"Good idea. And it looks like a good reason for you to have come over."

"Exactly. Hiding in plain sight. That's another reason I decided to stay here. We have an account with the Ritz chain. If I'd have booked in anywhere else, well anywhere more basic, it might have flagged something to MI6."

"There's only one problem with your plan."

Tommy frowned. "What's that?"

"I have nothing suitable to wear."

"Then tomorrow morning we do more hiding in plain sight and go shopping on Orchard Road."

Barbara sighed. "I'm going to have to accept aren't I?"

"Unless you want to go naked. I might enjoy that."

Barbara raised her hand and was about to thump him across the arm when there was a knock on the door. "Saved by the food... this time."

Tommy laughed as he went to the door. He opened it. "Come in. You can put it... What the hell are you doing here?" Barbara heard his pause and looked over to see Tommy's face drain white.


	9. Chapter 9

"A fine way to greet your brother. Oh... I see you are... entertaining. Good evening, Barbara."

Barbara wrapped the robe more tightly around her waist and lowered her head. "Hi, Peter."

Tommy pulled a smirking Peter into the room by his sleeve and closed the door. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were in Australia."

"I was. And very nice it was too, not that you bothered to ring me."

"So why are you here now? And how did you know where we were?"

Peter wandered across to the window. "Nice view. Why am I here? I am en route to Hong Kong and decided to have a few days in Singapore on the way."

"Why are you going to Hong Kong?"

"You don't see me for nearly a year, and all you can do is ask questions. Maybe I should ask a few? How long have you two been shagging?"

Tommy could see the effect his brother was having on Barbara. Her face was beetroot, and she was shaking - not enough for Peter to notice but enough for Tommy to know she was likely to either explode or disappear into her shell. "Barbara is my fiancée, and our love life is none of your business."

"I'll go and... dress," Barbara said as she tried to retreat to the bedroom.

Tommy shook his head. "No need. Peter's not staying long." He turned to his brother. "I still want to know how you found us."

"Fortunately not in flagrante delicto."

"Don't be crass." Peter's laugh made Tommy's blood surge to the surface. He balled his fist but shoved it into the pocket of his robe. He stared at his brother who merely shrugged and smiled tightly.

"We have an account here after all, so it seemed the logical choice. When I checked in, the receptionist asked if my room was to be charged to Lord Asherton's room. I said yes, of course, then asked in which suite you were staying. I dropped my bag in my room and thought I would see where His Lordship was sleeping, and with whom." He turned to Barbara. "I must say seeing you here was a surprise. About time my big brother realised what is good for him. Still, he would have stayed in one of the bigger suites upstairs if he was trying to impress you, so I presume you two have been together for a while." He turned back to Tommy. "Does Mother know?"

"Leave Mother out of this."

"Enough! Both of you. Can't you even be in the same room for ten minutes without fighting?"

Peter clapped his hands twice. "Ah, the voice of reason has spoken. Will you listen this time, I wonder, brother dear, or will you push Barbara away too if she loves you too much?"

"Why you..." Tommy lunged at his younger sibling.

"Tommy! No." Barbara walked over and slipped her hand through the gap between his arm and ribs, locking his arm in place. She glared at Peter. "I'm not on your side. If it comes to taking sides, I'll always support Tommy. Then I'll tell him why he's wrong later."

Peter gave Barbara a sad half-smile. "I am genuinely happy you two finally got together. You are good for my brother, and I mean it when I say I hope you'll both be very happy."

Tommy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Barbara somehow found his hand and squeezed it. He understood what she expected - good grace. He was not sure he could do that with any sincerity, but he tried. "Thank you, Peter."

"I always expected that one day you'd wake up and realise you were in love. Even back that first time we met Barbara at your engagement party, I knew it should have been you two celebrating. I could see how much she loved you."

"Peter, no." Barbara frowned and shook her head at Peter.

"When I made my speech, I know I was a little drunk, but I was watching everyone's reaction. Most people cringed. Helen dismissed me as irrelevant, but Barbara was the only concerned for you and how you must feel. Here you were shoving your supposed happiness right up her nose, and she was there looking after you like she always has."

A wave of guilt washed over him. Tommy knew he had asked Barbara because he needed her support to get him through the weekend juggling Helen and his mother and Peter. If Peter was right about her feelings, then he had been unbelievably insensitive. He tightened his grip on her hand and looked down at her.

Tommy's heart melted when she looked up at him and smiled. A quick, silent apology and forgiveness passed between them. He grinned at her. "I was a fool. And selfish. I understand that now. Barbara keeps me in line, so hopefully, I won't make those mistakes again. I'm sorry, Peter. About everything, but especially tonight. You appearing at the door was a shock, but I am happy to see you. Can we start again?"

Peter looked down as he used one fingernail to clean his thumbnail. "I'm sorry too. Old habits and all that."

Barbara pulled Tommy towards Peter. "Maybe it's time for a new habit then."

Peter nodded. "I should go."

"No, stay." Tommy reached out and shook his brother's hand. "Room service will be here soon, and I can order some more."

Peter nodded. "Thanks. I ate on the plane, but if your minibar has any beer, I'll have one."

Tommy turned to walk to the bar when there was another knock on the door. "Barbara, can you get the beer while I attend to the door?"

Barbara smiled at him. Somehow with her around, everything worked out.

* * *

Barbara fetched the drinks then quickly nipped into the bedroom and pulled on her jeans and a shirt. She did not feel comfortable sitting with Peter naked except for her robe. Like his brother, he had an unnerving ability to read her, and she him. When she returned, the brothers were sitting on the lounge silently drinking their beer.

"So how was Australia?" she asked.

"Good. I don't know if Tommy told you, but I worked with an organisation that provides drug rehabilitation to young people in the country. Cities always have a reputation for drugs, but life in the country can be very boring and disempowering for the young people. There's less infrastructure for them, and their parents are often struggling to keep their farms. The kids feel the pressure and are easy prey."

Barbara nodded. "That's so sad. Not much different to a lot of towns and villages in England."

"Yes, but better weather, and good for me to be away from Cornwall and London. Anonymity has its benefits."

Tommy paused with some noodles hanging from his chopsticks. "Why the trip to Hong Kong?"

"I'm doing an old friend a favour."

Barbara watched as Tommy's mind ticked over. He needed to stop treating his brother as a suspect in some unknown crime. She smiled brightly at Peter. "That's good of you. Have you been there before?"

"No, never. I will have two days there to myself before I fly back to London."

Tommy looked up. "What favour, Peter?" His tone was cool and suspicious.

Peter sighed. "Tim Thornbury asked me to accompany a Chinese gambler back to Hong Kong. Sort of a male companion role for a few days."

Barbara shot Tommy a quick glance. He raised his eyebrows. Thornbury, surely that could not be a coincidence? Tommy gave her a quick look of reassurance. They needed to play this slowly and not arouse Peter's suspicions. "A male companion for a Chinese gambler?"

Peter snorted. "It's not like that. I am not prostituting myself. Tim works for the casino here. He's a big wig in security for high rollers. He said the man needs to return to China but the regime there won't let him back in unless it is a business visit. If I cross the border with him from Hong Kong, it looks like legitimate business. He will disappear, and I am to return with someone else pretending to be him. For that, I get my fares and accommodation paid for and $5000 US."

"Peter, I'm not sure that's legal. Or ethical. And it might be dangerous."

Barbara observed the brothers closely. The air almost crackled. Peter raised his hand. "Don't, Tommy. I know you mean well but just don't. All right?"

Tommy closed his eyes a second too long for Barbara's comfort. "Is Tim any relation to James Thornbury? I knew James at Eton." She was relieved that his tone was conversational, not accusatory.

"Younger brother. Tim was in my form. James is the eldest, and Willie was somewhere in the middle. I think he's is a banker of some sort in Geneva. I don't know much about James."

"He works in London," Tommy said casually as he took another bite of his noodles.

"And I promise to be careful."

Tommy nodded. "Good."

"So why are you here, Tommy? Singapore is a long way to come for a dirty weekend."

"We had to take some time away to think about our future. We can't stay partners if we are in a relationship. I was coming here to attend a memorial service for an old friend. It seemed logical to invite Barbara." He looked over and gave her one of his loving looks. "Besides, we don't like being apart."

"Who died?"

"Charlie Wintergreen."

"Of course. I forgot he was your friend. I heard he topped himself."

"That was the official verdict."

Peter's eyes lit up like Tommy's often did. "You don't believe that, do you? You came out here to play detective."

Barbara watched Tommy deciding how much he could trust his brother. "We are detectives. I came to pay my respects and find out more about his life here and why he may have done it. Nothing more."

"Where's the service?"

"The British Club."

"Ooh, the British Club. How terribly colonial." He raised his beer into the air. "Chin chin."

Barbara laughed. Tommy looked up and grinned. "That sounds like something you would say."

"And you're going with him?" Peter asked.

"Of course."

"Pity. I was going to suggest we go and gamble some of his not-so-hard-earned at the Blackjack tables."

Barbara smiled at Peter. "Thanks, but Tommy needs me."

"Yes. Yes, he does." Peter put his empty beer bottle on the table. I think the jet lag is kicking in. I should go to bed. Maybe we could catch up for dinner tomorrow night. Leave a message at Reception after you get back."

Tommy nodded as he finished his last mouthful of noodles. "That would be good. About seven?"

"Sounds perfect."

Peter and Tommy both stood and walked to the door. "Good night, Peter. And I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's fine. Barbara has a civilising influence on us."

Tommy turned and smiled at her. "Yes, she does."

"Good night, Barbara," Peter said.

"Good night, Peter. It was good to see you."

Tommy closed the door then walked over to Barbara. He leant down and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you."

"No problem." She gave him the last chip. "I might go and clean my teeth and get out of these jeans."

Tommy gave her a wicked smile. "Yes please."

Barbara gave a faux tut. "For comfort, not sex. Anyone would think you were dipping out."

* * *

When she returned, Tommy was standing by the window staring at the city. She snaked her arms around him through the copious folds of his robe. "Penny for them."

"I'm wondering what we will learn tomorrow."

"Who turns up will be significant. And maybe who doesn't come might tell us more."

"Yes. What do you think about Peter turning up like that?"

"I think he's genuine. It's a dangerous errand though. Hopefully, you can talk him out of it."

"Thornbury can't be a coincidence. I'm worried that he was targetted, either to dissuade me from investigating or to discredit me somehow."

"I thought the same. One brother in the casino with Chinese connections, one in MI6 and another in banking. Sounds like a family affair."

"Yes, they're in it up to their necks. The trouble is what exactly? I think Peter is in grave danger."

Barbara tightened her grip around him. "I think we all are."


	10. Chapter 10

The British Club was only a twenty minute drive inland, but to Barbara it seemed a world away from the ever-moving city. Nestled amongst green jungle, just beyond manicured golf courses and tree-lined streets lined with large houses, the club sat at the end of a long private driveway.

Tommy took her hand and helped her from the cab. He smiled understandingly as she took a moment to balance on her new heels. The strappy sandals were only moderately high by most standards, but with much thinner heels than she had ever worn, she felt as if she were balancing on a tightrope. "The things I do for you," she muttered.

"And I appreciate it. You look incredible by the way."

Barbara blushed and hoped that under her light covering of makeup it was not visible to others. A discreet sign pointed them towards the large function room. Tommy took her hand as they walked.

The decor was the ubiquitous neutral cream of the non-descript conference centres throughout England. She felt vaguely disappointed. The image of the club she had conjured in her mind had been of colonial Singapore, with imposing white buildings, wide verandas, and dark teak floors that echoed every step across huge rooms decorated with tiger-skin rugs and cane furniture beneath woven punkah fans squeaking as a stern man in fine Indian silks rhythmically pulled up and down on the chain.

"Huh, I expected something less... cream."

Tommy chose seats in the back third of the room. "This should give us a good opportunity to assess people closest to Charlie. They will be up the front."

Barbara sat on the upright chair that was completely covered by a cream shroud with a large bow at the back that seemed superfluous and somewhat ridiculous. "And numb bums. Why are conference chairs and wedding chairs so bloody uncomfortable?"

Tommy leant close. "I love you."

She frowned. "I should hope so, but why in particular? I take it I said something amusing."

"No, you were just honest. I'm glad you acquiesced and allowed me to buy you that dress."

"They had a Marks and Spencers in that other centre. Something from there would have done."

Her dress was a flared version of the popular little black dress and had bold square shoulders. The high square neckline was softened by a small v-notch. So as to not appear too funereal, she had also bought a wispy silk scarf in a wavy pattern of emerald green and gold. The girl assisting her had shown her how to loosely knot it around her neck to look elegant. When Tommy had seen it, he had insisted on buying her matching Tiffany emerald earrings. Used to studs, they dangled awkwardly and weighed heavily on her lobes, but she was not going to complain. She had only allowed him to buy such an expensive gift because she had seen what it meant to him to be able to spoil her. She did not have the heart to refuse. Now he looked disappointed.

She smiled her apology. "But I love this dress and my earrings. It is a wonderful fit and I can get more use out of it back home."

Tommy gave her his special smile. It had felt good seeing his excitement as they shopped together, darting in and out of the vast shopping labyrinths centres that lined Orchard Road. Each centre had seemed more elaborate than the last with swathes of marble, glass, silver and gold.

Despite her preference for slacks and trainers, Barbara had wanted to look nice for him. She wanted to blend in to his world and not embarrass him. As usual, he looked immaculate in a dark grey suit, white shirt and a black silk tie that in the right light shimmered in maroon. They looked good together, and for the first time, she had felt his equal when she saw their reflection in the mirror in the hotel lift.

She leant close to his ear. "I love you too by the way."

"See that man who just walked in?"

Barbara pretended to pick fluff off Tommy's jacket as she studied the tall, blonde man who walked with a slight limp. "Yeah."

"That's Willie Thornbury."

"Really? I thought he was in Geneva."

"Appears not."

"The plot thickens."

"Any thicker and it'd be concrete."

Barbara stifled a laugh. The sound was more like indigestion escaping. "Sorry."

"Let's see who else turns up."

* * *

Tommy thought the service was far longer than necessary, as if everyone was overcompensating because no one had seen signs he might take his own life.

"His boss spoke well of him," Barbara said as they walked with the crowd into the Waterloo Arms, a full English-style pub that occupied a corner of the club.

"Yes, he did. Would you like a drink?"

"Love one. I suppose dressed like this it should be wine, or Pimms."

"You don't like wine or Pimms."

"Yes, but I wouldn't feel comfortable standing here in this dress with a pint, and cocktails are not for wakes. What about a Black Russian, no coke?"

"Isn't that a cocktail?"

"Hmm, not really. It's more a mixed spirit. Cocktails are those girly things with umbrellas."

Tommy queued at the bar. Apart from Willie Thornbury, he only knew one other person at the funeral, another Etonian, Matthew Haddock, who was in conversation with an attractive blonde. He caught his eye and nodded. Just as he was collecting his drinks Matthew came up to him and clapped him on the back. "Tommy, old man! How are you?"

Lynley put the drinks back on the bar and shook his hand. "I'm well. And you? I haven't seen you since school. You went to Cambridge with Charlie didn't you? Chemistry?"

"I'm well. Yes, but I changed university in second year and read chemical engineering at Imperial College. Now I'm stationed out here working in the oil industry. Great life being an expat."

"I can imagine. Did you see much of poor Charlie?"

"Up until a few months ago we played tennis every Thursday. They have courts out the back of the club. Sometimes I would see him on weekends at the pool here, but he tended to come later in the afternoons. I have three rambunctious teenage boys, so my weekends revolve around their sports." Matthew paused. "I was sorry to hear about Helen. It must have been awful for you."

"Thanks." Tommy wanted to say he was with Barbara now, but whichever way he said it, it would sound dismissive of Helen. "It was tragic and painful."

Matthew nodded and several seconds of awkward silence followed. Tommy spoke first. "Did you have any inkling about Charlie?"

"None, although he seemed preoccupied lately and, as I said, we stopped playing tennis. He had a run of investments go sour, and had to deal with the fallout. Chinese investors I think. They can be very hard to satisfy."

"His boss spoke highly of him. I'm sure he would have found a way."

"Listen, I shouldn't spread rumours, but he had some dubious clients heavily into gambling at the casinos. Charlie used to joke that he was nothing more than a legal money-launderer. Are we sure it was suicide?"

Tommy shrugged then picked up his drinks. "Come and meet my partner, Barbara. She'll be thinking her throat has been cut without these drinks."

Barbara was standing near the door to the verandah talking animatedly with Charlie's boss. The policeman in him wanted to leave her alone to gather any information she could. Unfortunately, with Matthew in tow, he had to interrupt.

"Here you are, darling. Barbara Havers, this is Matthew Haddock, a classmate from Eton." Barbara had frowned slightly at the term 'darling'. Tommy made a mental note to check why later.

Barbara smiled and shook hands with Matthew. "Delighted to meet you, Matthew. Sorry it is under these circumstances."

"I should mingle." Charlie's boss shook Tommy's hand, bowed his head to Barbara then went towards the bar.

"So, you're Tommy's partner?" Matthew turned to Tommy and raised an eyebrow. "He certainly knows how to attract pretty women."

Tommy waited for Barbara to throw her drink over Matthew. Instead she smiled sweetly and began to ask him about living in Singapore. Scanning the room he spotted Willie by himself near the bar. "Excuse me," he said, his eyes quickly darting to the right so Barbara understood.

"Willie? Willie Thornbury?"

The blonde man turned and smiled. "Lynley! I thought it was you. What brings you this far east?"

"My partner and I were taking some leave, and after Charlie's accident I thought Singapore might be an interesting option."

"It wasn't an accident. He topped himself. How long are you staying?"

The man was clever with his innocent questions hiding decidedly specific intent. "A few days, a week maybe. It depends what we do. There is a lot to explore in such a small country. And you? Did you come over for this?"

Thornbury straightened but was still an inch or so shorter than Tommy. "Yes, I worked with Charles in one of the big six a few years ago. My younger brother also lives here, so it is a chance to catch up. I will fly back to Geneva on Sunday."

"Oh, I didn't realise you had worked together. Such a waste. Well, nice to see you, Willie."

"You too, Lynley. Take care."

Tommy heard a hint of warning in his words. "Always. Say, how's James these days?"

A shadow passed over Willie's face. "The same. Still in London but he still manages to torment his younger brothers."

Tommy laughed with Willie as if it were a joke. He knew it was far from that. "Peter would probably say the same of me."

"Is Peter alright these days? I mean, I heard... well, rumours."

"Yes, fortunately. He's in town actually. We bumped into each other last night. He's en route to London via Hong Kong. I'm getting too old to explore like that. I'd rather just fly home directly."

"Hong Kong? Interesting city. Can be a bit dangerous though these days if you go into the wrong areas. Tell him to take care. Maybe he should fly back with you."

Another warning? Tommy smiled tightly. "Unfortunately, we are not close. He wouldn't listen to me. If I said that, he'd laugh and go anyway. Peter and I lead very separate lives. We are not friends like many brothers."

"A shame. Well, enjoy your stay. Nice to see you, Lynley."

"Yes, Willie. Same to you."

Tommy returned to Barbara. She was still chatting with Matthew and laughing at his jokes. Tommy felt a stab of jealousy. He knew it was unfounded, and he hated his possessiveness. It was one of his flaws and he did not want to behave as he had with Deborah and Helen. When he came up to them, she looked at him as if she understood exactly what he was thinking. She took his hand and smiled up at him, directly into his soul. Any jealousy was pushed out by an overwhelming surge of love. Her eyes turned darker as he looked into them.

"Er, I should leave you two alone."

Tommy turned to Matthew. "Sorry. No need. What have you two been chatting about?"

"Matthew was telling me about Singapore. If I want to see wide verandas and the whole Colonial thing he recommends we visit Raffles Hotel for High Tea or dinner."

"Of course. Tomorrow perhaps."

"The National Museum is also good," Matthew said, "if you are interested in the city's history. Actually, several museums are worth a look. Fort Canning has a great museum about the invasion during World War Two. The Asian Civilisation Museum is excellent, and Chinatown has one about the early lifestyle of the Chinese workers brought here by the English. Then there's the Indian and Malay centres, and..."

Barbara put up her hand. "Whoa, we are only here a few days."

"Of course. I get carried away." Matthew turned to face Barbara, leaving Tommy standing behind his shoulder. "If you need any suggestions, or an escort, please call me." He handed Tommy his card then bid his farewell.

"At the risk of sounding jealous, I think Matthew fancied you."

Barbara arched her eyebrow. "You sound amazed."

"Only by you. I thought you might find this awkward, but you're like a duck in water."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Yes, but I can do better."

She gave him a cheeky grin. "I'm waiting."

He leaned close and whispered in her ear. Barbara's face darkened. "Then I think we should leave so you can put that into practice."


	11. Chapter 11

"Come back to bed."

"I can't, Tommy. We have to meet your brother in twenty minutes." Barbara tossed a towel at her lover. "Shower, now."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, chuckling at her insistence on punctuality. "At least tell me you would if we had time."

Barbara walked over and gave him a deep kiss that surprised and delighted him. "Satisfied?"

He grabbed her hips and tried to pull her down. "No. I could ring Peter and tell him something has come up."

"Wicked man. No, now get up. I have questions for Peter, and we have to formulate a plan for tomorrow. We do have people potentially wanting to kill us, remember?"

"Ah, Yes. There is that." Tommy let her go and threw back the sheet. He smiled as he watched Barbara's eyes run over his naked body.

* * *

Peter was waiting in the lounge. "How was the memorial service?"

"Fitting," Tommy replied cryptically.

Peter nodded. "Right. Where would you like to eat?"

"I have a recommendation for a restaurant off the tourist beat if you are interested," Barbara said. Matthew had told her about a restaurant in the suburbs that she thought might intrigue the Lynleys. "We'd need a cab though."

The Lynley men, both dressed almost identically in fawn slacks, white open-necked shirts and blue jackets simultaneously swept their arms towards the door indicating she should exit. Barbara laughed when they both glared at each other before the looks softened into wry grins. They were more alike than either cared to admit.

The drive took about twenty minutes during which time the conversation had centred on Singaporean food and England's dismal performance in the Ashes. Barbara had let the boys prattle on and focussed on what their next move should be. The memorial service had been helpful, but not overly enlightening in providing a lead. Now they had to figure out a way to locate that container.

The driver turned off the main road and wound through a series of narrow backstreets. Named after English towns, they undulated over a series of small hills and gullies. Behind lush green foliage, impressive colonial two-storey houses sat proudly, almost defiantly, on generous blocks of land. Although each house was different, they were all stark white with black trim around the multi-panel windows and doors, and faded red terracotta roofs pock-marked with lichen. It was as if time had stood still. Barbara could imagine men dressed in cream linen suits with their giggling women in long white dresses sitting on the large verandahs sipping G&Ts and playing croquet on the verdant lawn.

"Barbara?"

"Sorry?"

Tommy smiled. "I asked if you were sure we are going in the right direction," Tommy said impatiently.

"Yes." She was less confident than she tried to sound.

"Just up here lah," the driver reassured them.

A minute later he pulled into the gravel driveway of one of the houses. The only clue it was a restaurant was the small car park on the left and a discrete red sign on the pillar near the entrance.

Barbara stepped from the car and stared up at the house. Despite her dislike of many aspects of Britain's colonial past, she had to admit they had lived in style. A hostess escorted the trio through the house past rooms filled with laughter and the distinctive clatter of cutlery on fine China. Fragrant, spicy aromas wafted by, making her mouth water.

At the rear, the backyard had been transformed into a series of private dining areas separated by dark classical Chinese teak screens with geometric patterns of interlocking rectangles. The hostess led them to a wooden pavilion overhung by an enormous white frangipani. The table sat on a slatted wooden floor. Barbara looked between the cracks and could see koi swimming over the small lights in the artificial creek bed. The hostess undid soft white curtains that were tied to the pavilion posts and let the ones at the rear and sides swirl in the gentle breeze. The scent of the frangipani was stronger under the roof and seemed to intensify as the light turned to a short dusk.

Peter openly stared at four men dressed only in dark trousers and brightly coloured silk sashes who were lighting waist high torches in between the pavilions. A soft, yellowy glow filtered through the curtains. "If the food is as good as the ambience then we are in for a treat. I never expected to see bare-chested waiters."

"Matthew said it was an experience."

Just as Tommy went to speak, four lights illuminated a dark area of the yard. Barbara saw that all the pavilions which had seemed at first to be randomly spaced for optimum privacy, in fact, all faced the stage. The four men danced into the space. She expected them to start singing, so jumped when a cleverly choreographed acrobatic display began. Ten minutes later the crowd clapped enthusiastically. The lights on the stage went black, and the privacy of each pavilion was restored.

"What a fascinating restaurant," Tommy exclaimed, "much better than dining in the hotel." Under the table, he gently squeezed Barbara's thigh.

She smiled. As she had hoped, Tommy and Peter seemed relaxed and happy. She had been worried that the tension between the brothers might have been too much in the more conservative atmosphere of the hotel restaurant.

Barbara looked at the menu. It was complicated, and she had no idea what half the food was, let alone whether she would like it. She glanced at Tommy. He smiled. "How does everyone feel about the five-course banquet?"

Peter looked up. "Excellent choice. Barbara?"

"I don't know much about Asian food beyond satay and sweet and sour at the local takeaway."

Tommy squeezed her thigh again, this time a little bit higher. "If you prefer to choose your meal..."

"No. This is an adventure. I'm game."

Tommy signalled the waitress who was standing almost unseen outside the pavilion. Dressed in a peacock blue silk cheongsam, flat sandals and her raven hair tied in a bun and held in place by what seemed to Barbara to be a spare chopstick, the waitress was the epitome of a Chinese woman. She bowed to each of them before taking Tommy's order. He also selected a bottle of wine to accompany the meal and ordered three beers. Barbara was amazed when the waitress went to a low cupboard in the corner and returned with chilled glasses and three large bottles of Tiger.

After pouring the drinks, the waitress discretely left. They raised their glasses. "To a wonderful meal and to your wonderful woman," Peter said beaming a smile reminiscent of Tommy's.

"To the meal and yes, my wonderful future wife."

Barbara felt her face flush. "Cheers," she mumbled, not wanting to toast herself.

"That was exquisite," Tommy said after they had finished their first course of Peking Duck.

"Yeah, it was nice," Barbara agreed, somewhat glad that she had been able to assemble and eat the dish successfully. When the chef had arrived and sliced the duck in front of them, carefully arranging each piece on a plate, she had wondered what was happening. The waitress laid out plates of spring onions, cucumber, little pancakes and sauce, and Barbara had quietly cursed Tommy for choosing a meal that might embarrass her. Peter was family, well almost, but she did not want to confirm any suspicions he might have that she was unsuitable to be Tommy's partner. She only hoped the next courses would be simpler.

"The food certainly matches the ambience," Peter said, "I must congratulate you, Barbara, on your choice of restaurant.

Barbara smiled and nodded but did not answer. Tommy's hand had found its way to her knee again, and she received another loving squeeze.

"So how did you spend your day, Peter?"

"I met up with Tim for lunch. He wanted to introduce me to Mr Tan, the man I'm accompanying to China."

Tommy's hand gripped Barbara's knee painfully. She reached down and put her hand over his, stroking it softly until he relaxed. He looked across and silently apologised.

She heard Tommy take a deep breath. "Peter, I know you'll say it's none of my business, but are you sure you want to do this?"

Peter ignored him and continued his story. "He seems harmless enough, but he's shrewd. He has to be to manage his company."

Barbara tried to reduce the tension that hung in the air like the fetid midday humidity. "What does he do?"

"Excuse me," the waitress said as she stood a few feet from the pavilion. "Next course, Double-boiled Sea Whelk Soup with sea cucumber, chicken and wild mushrooms."

The waitress placed a white soup tureen on the table then quickly laid a small bowl and Chinese spoon in front of each of them. With great reverence, she removed the lid, wafted the sweet aroma over the guests then ladled out the soup holding the bamboo spoon high and letting the golden liquid fall over two feet into the bowls.

When she had gone, Peter replied, "he mainly gambles I suspect based on what they say he bets at the casino. Apparently, he heads an international shipping company called Black Dragon."

The detectives both looked up. "Black Dragon?"

"Yes, they specialise in containerised liquids, chemicals and refrigerated cargo." Peter sipped his soup. "This is good too."

Tommy and Barbara exchanged worried glances. "I still don't understand why you're doing this. I'll happily pay you the same money just to go straight back to England."

"Thank you, Tommy, but no."

"Don't be so stubborn, Peter."

"It's a family trait."

"Rubbish. Father wasn't a stubborn man."

"What would you know Tommy? You were only a teenager when he died."

"And you were seven!" Tommy spat back. Barbara took Tommy's hand. He looked at her but ignored her pleas to stay calm. "I knew him ten years longer than you."

"You're obsessed by your idealisation of who he was. Yes, he was a good father. As a husband he had failings. You blame Mother for everything but let's not forget Father invited his lover into our house to nurse him while he was ill. How do you think that made Mother feel?"

"Mrs Blake? No! You're wrong, Peter. Who poisoned your mind with this? Mother? Trenarrow trying to ingratiate himself? It's not true."

Barbara could see the pain in the eyes of both brothers. She was not sure what had happened in the past between Tommy and his mother except that her love for the doctor Barbara had met at his engagement party played a significant role. "This is not the conversation for dinner."

Peter turned to her and bowed his head slightly. "Maybe not, and I apologise, Barbara, but Tommy has to know the truth."

Tommy took a mouthful of soup. When he looked up, his eyes nearly broke Barbara's heart. She had only seen that pain once before after Helen was shot. "It's not the truth." His voice was low, firm, and final.

Peter sighed then stood. "I'm sorry, Barbara. I had hoped we might be able to reconnect but my brother... I understand that you have to support him. Thank you for a nice meal, but I should go."

"No! Neither of you are going anywhere." The brothers looked at her. "I mean it. I never knew your father, and I don't care where your family stubbornness comes from, but the Havers line can out-stubborn you every time. It's obvious that you both want to repair your relationship. The only way you can do that is by listening to each other and discussing things calmly. You may not agree, but you can at least try to understand the other's point of view. I know from bitter experience that what happens between parents can deeply affect the children, but neither of you should be angry at the other for what they did. Be angry at them, but you only get one brother! And when he's gone..." Barbara sniffed back a sob.

Tommy put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair. "I'm sorry. Stay please, Peter."

Peter sat back down. "I'm sorry too, Barbara. I should never have brought it up."

Barbara nodded. They finished their soup in silence.

The waitress reappeared and removed their bowls replacing them with plates. She placed a small platter in the centre between them. "Braised whole Australian abalone with Chinese mushrooms, vegetables and oyster sauce."

"Does Aqueous mean anything to you?" Peter asked after they had been eating in silence for a minute or so.

The couple looked at each other and frowned. "No, I don't think so. Barbara?"

"No. Why?"

"I have one advantage in my role that Tim is unaware of."

Tommy frowned sceptically. "Such as?"

"I speak basic Cantonese. I understand most of what they say."

Tommy stared at his brother. "Where did you learn to speak Cantonese?"

The conversation paused as the waitress returned to collect the plates and present the next course. "Steamed whole fish, bean curd, tomatoes and salted vegetables."

"My roommate at Eton was from Hong Kong. He taught me."

"So what have they said about us?" Barbara asked.

"That you might be here to look for Aqueous and might endanger their plans." Peter grinned at the shock on his older brother's face.

"Me?"

"Yes, you were mentioned by name. Tim and Mr Tan see me as a tolerable necessity to keep you under control. I think they intend to kill me, or at least threaten it if you interfere."

Tommy threw his chopsticks onto his plate. "That does it. I forbid you to go anywhere but the airport. I'm flying you out of danger tonight if we can get a seat." Tommy started to fish in his pocket from his phone.

"No, you won't. I'm not seven anymore, Tommy. Besides, that would confirm it and endanger all of us. For you to have come out here, it must be important. I want to help you, but first I need to know what is going on."


	12. Chapter 12

Tommy threw the room key onto the table and headed for the small bar area in the corner. "Fancy a drink?"

"After all that food? Not sure I could fit it in. What was the dish after the fish?"

Tommy filled his tumbler with Scotch. "Tea smoked chicken and noodles I think."

He could feel Barbara's eyes on him, but he was not in the mood. He turned the opposite way and walked to the window. Singapore was alive with a rainbow of light reflecting off the buildings and still water of the bay. Again her eyes burned into him as he took a large gulp of whiskey. "What?"

"Fine."

The exasperation in her voice annoyed him. "Fine? What's that supposed to mean?".

"I'm not going to argue with you, Tommy."

"Why not? We spent most of the last decade bickering. Why change now?"

"Ugh! Because you're hurt and angry, and you can't argue with your father, so you intend to take it out on me. But I'm not playing because if I did... I might say something we both regret."

Tommy turned and looked at her. He was about to tell her to go ahead, but he paused. Her face was lined with worry, and anger but also with fear. Her eyes pleaded with him not to drink, not to brood and not to hate himself. He could see Barbara was scared she would lose him. He put the drink down and walked over to her. He put his hands on her hips and rested his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry."

The forgiving embrace he had expected did not materialise. He pulled back and looked at her. She had something to say, and he knew he would hate hearing it. "Say it."

"I don't know what happened all those years ago, but you and Peter and your mother all bear ugly scars from it. I suspect the person least to blame was Peter, but he seems to have borne the brunt of it. He lost his father..."

"So did I."

"He was seven, and he lost his father, his brother, and I imagine his mother in a way. He has never been able to reconcile what happened to him. I know what it is like to have your parents or people you rely on emotionally abandon you. Peter was bitter and angry, and he lost his way. Yes, he disappointed you by not finishing at Oxford and by finding solace in heroin. But was that really that different to the way you've reacted at times?"

"I never..." Tommy ran his fingers slowly through his hair, raking it back off his face. He glanced over at the glass of whiskey and shook his head. "No. No, it's not. Just a different drug of choice."

"Peter reminds me a lot of you, but he's also his own man."

"I just wanted a better life for him. I provided money for everything he needed."

"He didn't need your money, Tommy. He needed his big brother. From what I've seen you tell him what to do, but you never discuss anything with him or try to understand where he's at and what he needs. Perhaps it's because you're afraid of the confrontation and needing to explain to him how you felt. Apologise even. You have to face it at some point. He's willing to risk his life for you. He's reaching out in the only way he knows how. To me, it seems as if he is desperate to win your approval, but worst of all, he thinks he needs to offer his life to you for you to love him."

"I do love him. I just..."

"Never told him?"

"No. You're right. Mother seemed to have no control. I thought it was my job to provide discipline. To step up and be like Father."

"He needed a brother who spent time with him; a brother who took him fishing or sailing or riding or whatever else you do down there; a brother who took the time to listen."

Tommy walked to the window. He wanted to pick up the tumbler, but he knew it was dangerous and foolhardy. He rested his head on the cool window and stared out. "I know. I just couldn't go back and face Mother and Trenarrow."

He closed his eyes when he felt her arms circle his waist. "You have to make peace with the past if you want to move forward. I will help any way I can. It's not like I'm an expert here, but you helped me confront my past demons. Let me return the favour."

"Did I?"

"You know you did. You believed in me. You listened. You didn't put me down for being... as I was. And somewhere along the line, you fell in love with me. You can learn to like Peter too."

Tommy reached down and laid his hands over hers. "Will I learn to like me?"

"You value my opinion don't you?"

"Of course."

"Well I like you, so you should too."

Tommy turned and embraced her. "I like you too."

Barbara stroked his face. "Good. Now come to bed. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

* * *

Barbara woke to the muffled sound of voices in the other room. She put her hand across to wake Tommy, but it fell on cold sheets. She got up and crept to the door. Tommy was sitting in the dark talking on his phone. His tone was serious and severe. She could tell he was upset. After debating whether to give him privacy or support, she took a deep breath and walked into the room. Tommy looked up and smiled grimly then raised his hand above his shoulder. Barbara walked over behind his chair and took his hand in both of hers.

"Thanks, Judith. You can understand why I didn't want to ring Mother... Yes, I will... No, it won't be easy. I still can't believe it, but I do believe you if that makes any sense... I'll tell her... Yes, same to you... Talk soon."

Barbara walked around the chair and sat on Tommy's lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and nestled his face into her shoulder. She knew to wait until he was ready to talk. He would tell her when he could.

"I rang Judith. She sends her love."

"How is she?"

"Well."

"Did you tell her Peter was here?"

"Yes."

"Coming back to bed?"

"I had to know. About Father. I needed to know if Peter was right."

Barbara caressed his face but said nothing as he stared out the window.

"Judith said... that Father was having an affair with Mrs Blake before he was ill. At least she was a widow. That's some comfort. She was a registered nurse apparently, and he had insisted on her being his nurse. Anyway, Father wasn't who I thought he was."

"I'm sorry."

"Peter was right. I do... did... idealise him. I tried to be what I thought he wanted me to be."

"That's natural."

"Do you think it explains why I... have relationship issues?"

"No, I don't. Other than thinking you needed a well-bred wife when you really needed me."

For the first time in hours, Tommy laughed. "If you had just told me that ten years ago, life might have been simpler."

Barbara tucked the lock of hair that had fallen over his eye behind his ear. "Neither of us would have believed it. So how do you feel?"

"Foolish. I need to apologise to Mother. She wasn't blameless, but I understand now. Judith said my parents still loved each other, but they had stopped being in love. I think I understand that."

Barbara kissed him lightly. "Call your mother now. You need to be focused the next few days, for Peter's sake as much as ours."

She stood and pressed the mobile into his palm. "Then come to bed."

Tommy caught her wrist. "I love you. With all of my heart."

Barbara smiled. She did not need to reply.

* * *

While Tommy met Peter for breakfast, Barbara went to the hotel's business centre to use the computers. She hoped that internet traffic in a large hotel would be hard to trace if she only searched for information many of the guests might need.

An hour later she was back in the room compiling her notes and comparing them to Google Maps. She looked up as Tommy came in. His eyes were slightly red and swollen. It might have been lack of sleep or something more.

"How did it go?"

"Well, I think. When we parted just now, Peter hugged me so hard I could scarcely breathe."

"I hope you hugged him back."

Tommy nodded. "Yes. We had a good talk. An adult talk. I was honest. I told him everything I knew and what had happened with Mother. He talked about how he learned about Father. We have a messy family, I'm afraid."

"Most families are messy, Tommy, it's just that some hide it better. I'm happy you talked. Give it time."

"I need to buy a cheap pre-paid phone, and Peter wants me to join Facebook as George Cornwallen and friend him. He is going to try to post useful updates and photos. Do you know what any of that means?"

Barbara nodded. "Yeah, more or less. We'd better set up a Gmail account for George too. But Facebook is banned in China, how will he be able to post?"

"He said Hong Kong and Macau are not banned. He'll feed us what he can. How did you fare?"

"It's a nightmare. Singapore has five main port areas mostly on the south coast. There are sixty-seven berths, most of which take containers. There are over a million containers here at any one time." She threw her pen on the desk. "Do the words needle and haystack mean anything to you?"

"Come on, Havers. Don't give up that easily. Show me."

Barbara smiled and nodded then picked up the iPad. "Well, Sir, along here is Keppel. Fourteen berths and 105 hectares of containers. This is Brani Island with only eight berths but impossible to access due to their security. Along this stretch here is Pasir Panjang which is spread over more than 400 hectares. See my problem?"

Tommy studied the map. "Yes. And this here?"

"Jurong Island. It's mainly used for petrochemicals. Again, restricted access which is tightly vetted. Most chemical ships dock there, so my money is on the container being somewhere on that island. I didn't expect to see the container sitting in the open waiting, but this is beyond us. We'd need teams of people."

"Maybe not."

Barbara raised her eyebrows. "You've thought of something?"

"Maybe. We can't find it by ourselves, but what if we enlist someone who might have access to the port records or be able to find someone who has?"

"Clever! You're thinking of Matthew."

"Yes. He works in the petroleum industry."

"He told me works at a refinery. He gave me his card." Barbara rummaged in her bag. "Here it is. Oh, you're gonna love this... his title is Manager, Logistics. He'd have to have access to shipping records."

Tommy grinned at her. "You call him. After all, he fancied you, darling, not me."

Barbara's smile tightened to a tight line. "Tommy... I'd rather you didn't call me darling."

"Why not?"

She paused then decided to be honest. "It sounds petty, but that's what you called Helen, and every time you say it... well, you get my drift."

"You think I'm thinking of her."

"No! Are you?"

"No."

"I said it was stupid, but I feel... inadequate."

"Come here." Tommy extended his hand towards her. She leant into him and put her head on his shoulder. "You are not inadequate, in any way. What would you like me to call you?"

"Havers?"

Tommy ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. "I love you, Havers."

"I know."

"But it is hardly a term of endearment. I don't think sweetheart, or baby, or honey work. Dear sounds like old women. Hmm." He stroked his chin as if in deep thought. "What about poopsy-woopsy?"

"I'll poopsy-woopsy you!" Barbara hit him on the arm. He grabbed her around the waist, and they both tumbled to the floor laughing. Tommy's mouth found hers and Barbara moaned soft approval.


	13. Chapter 13

The delay while they made love worked in their favour, distracting them until the shops opened at ten. They quickly found a cheap knockoff of an expensive smartphone. Barbara used it to set up email and Facebook accounts. She sent a friend request to Peter and was surprised when he responded almost instantly.

"I don't know if it will hide you for long from professionals, but I've set your security to make almost everything visible only to you. That way people won't see that you are only friends with one person."

"Okay. Thanks. What email was available?"

"The one I wanted." Barbara gave him a saucy grin then showed him the screen.

"Poopsywoopsy at gmail dot com! Havers!" He tried hard to maintain his sense of dignity. "Sometimes I could take you over my knee and spank you."

Barbara's eyes bulged as she looked at him trying to read if he was serious. She smiled. "I always said you public school types were kinky."

"I'll give you kinky." Tommy leant down and whispered in her ear. Her face flushed and this time she looked genuinely startled. Unable to keep a straight face any longer, he began to laugh. "Ow!" he cried when she hit his leg.

"Serves you right."

Tommy glanced at his watch. "We should find a cab. I told Matthew we'd be there at noon."

* * *

On the phone, Matthew had suggested meeting at the British Club. Barbara had agreed as it would appear like a typical activity for British friends catching up. When they arrived, their names were at the door. An earnest young man in a maroon waistcoat escorted to a table in the Verandah Cafe, an open-air dining area that overlooked the pool. Below them, as they enjoyed a post-lesson dip, young children and their mothers splashed noisily.

"Mr Haddock telephoned and asked me to tell you he should be arriving about ten past the hour." The young man handed them menus. "A waiter will come for your drinks order shortly." He turned sharply and left them.

"Pompous little git."

"Barbara, please. He's just doing his job."

"He doesn't like the people who come here. It's like reverse snobbery."

Tommy twitched his mouth to avoid smiling. "Mmm."

"Argh, he's nothing like me, if that's what you were thinking."

Tommy just smiled. He had so many examples of her behaving even more disdainfully. "No, of course not... kinky-winky."

He smiled as her face reddened. She was clearly thinking about his suggestion, not that he had been serious, but he enjoyed being able to shock her occasionally.

"Very funny, Sir. So, how are you going to handle this conversation?"

Tommy took her hand, and they exchanged a decidedly lustful look before he grinned playfully at her. "Oh! You mean the conversation with Matthew?" He ignored her rolling eyes and returned to a serious tone. "The truth, I think. Do we agree we trust him?"

"Yeah, we have no choice. If he's with them, we're screwed, but we have to take that chance otherwise we're screwed anyway."

"Succinctly put. Drink?"

"Coke."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think we need to stay sharp."

When the waiter arrived, Tommy ordered a coke and a lemon, lime and bitters. Just as the waiter thanked them, Matthew came through the door. "Sorry, I'm late." He put his backpack on the chair next to Tommy then sat in the chair next to Barbara.

The waiter pushed in his chair. "Drink, Sir?"

"Ah, yes. Mango lassi please." He turned to the detectives and shrugged. "Can't drink during work hours. Not around a refinery. The guards on the island's checkpoints breath test anyone they suspect of imbibing. Instant dismal for most people."

"That's fine. We ordered soft drinks too," Barbara said.

Tommy cut straight to the chase. "Thanks for meeting us. At the service, you suggested that Charlie's death might not have been what it seems. You were right, Barbara and I are out here investigating his death. Barbara is my police partner and an excellent detective."

"Oh, Scotland Yard is involved? It must be serious." Matthew looked at Barbara. "Does that mean that you are only undercover as his girlfriend? Maybe when this is over, you and I could go out."

Tommy saw Barbara beginning to blush. "No," he said more forcefully than he had intended. "Anyway, I thought you were married with children."

"The children are real. Unfortunately, my wife left me last year for a Welshman of all things. They stayed in Singapore for the sake of our kids. They go to better schools than we could afford at home, and have a good life here. I omitted to tell you because I was embarrassed."

"No need. I'm sorry about your marriage, Matthew." He took Barbara 's hand. "Our relationship is real. We won't be able to continue working together when we return, but by then we will have set a date for our wedding."

"Will we?" Barbara looked at him.

Tommy had meant it as a statement of fact, at least in his mind. His ears reddened as he realised he should have mentioned it to her first. At least they had talked about it once before, so it was not a complete surprise. He nodded. "I hope so."

"Looks like we will," she said with a smile that confirmed his inadvertent proposal was accepted.

"I feel I'm interrupting a moment here," Matthew said, "I meant no offence, Barbara. You're an extremely captivating woman, and I hope you and Tommy enjoy and long and happy marriage."

Barbara looked down, but colour flooded her neck. Tommy decided to steer the conversation back on track. "So, technically we are here in an unofficial capacity. Before he died, Charlie sent me a letter suggesting he may be killed and if he was, he left me some clues as to who and why."

"I knew he wouldn't have killed himself."

"I'm sorry to have to ask, but before I tell you everything, I need to know if you are willing to help us, even if there is some potential danger."

"If it's the Chinese investors, he had told me once they were Triad and dangerous. I have my family to think about, but yes, if I can help, I will."

"Thank you. Charlie sent me a... Ah! Our drinks."

"Allow me to order lunch Tommy," Matthew said before turning to the waiter and ordering a curry and side dishes. He turned back and smiled. "This curry is amazing, trust me."

"Good job we like curry," Barbara mumbled.

Tommy quickly outlined the story about the carving! Their trip to Switzerland, and Peter. "So, our next step is to find this container but with a port the size of Singapore..." Tommy gave Matthew time to comprehend what he had told him.

Matthew sat back in his chair. "Locating the container won't be hard. Inspecting it will be. At least I should be able to find where it came from, and if it is scheduled to be shipped out. If this thing has a nuclear weapon on board... If it goes off on the island, the impact could devastate the world economy."

Tommy nodded. "I think they need to get the contents somewhere and use them before it becomes a bomb. Charlie said it was precursors. I am not sure what that means exactly. You might have more idea."

"Not really. I assume it might be the fuel being kept stable in some sort of cooling liquid, but I can't say for sure."

"I think they intend to use it as a threat to extort money, rather than explode it. Making a bomb would take skills."

"The Triads could get those skills easily enough. They have means. I can see why you want to locate that container." Matthew reached over and pulled his laptop from his bag. "If it was here at the end of last month, it will be listed on the monthly port authority list, unless they have bribed someone to leave it off. That would be dangerous though as the weekly yard report of non-moving containers would highlight it. They would have to bribe too many inspectors to ensure it was omitted. Much more likely it is hiding in plain sight. Do you have the number?"

"Here." Barbara pulled out her phone and after a few taps showed him the screen. Matthew ran a search.

"Will anyone know you have run the query?" Tommy asked.

"No. It's on a file I download every month. If I ran a search online today, there'd be a record but not this way. Most companies run this search every month."

Tommy nodded. "Good. Then no one will know."

"Right. It's a chemical container, so basically a tank in a frame, not a standard container. That means there is bulk liquid inside. It's located at Row 16, L, Number Three yard on Jurong. It looks like it has been there nearly two months, but there are no planned movements logged. They will need to move it soon, or it will start to flag interest. It says it contains waste chemicals not suitable for burning. Ah, it was loaded in India. They have a nuclear programme don't they?"

Barbara tried to look at the screen. "Is it listed as radioactive?"

"No. It's not a biohazard either. Just hazardous goods, like all chemicals."

Tommy sat back in his chair. With his elbows on the armrests, he drummed his fingers together in front of his face. Barbara frowned. "I know that look."

"We need to get a sample of the contents analysed."

The others looked at him as if he were mad.

"How?" Barbara asked. "Even if we find it, how do we sample it and then analyse it?"

"Sampling is relatively easy, or should be," Matthew said. "There are sample cocks on each container. They can't be locked because of Customs spot checks. If we could get a sample, I could run it through the spectrometer at work. I'd have to do it tonight though when I send down my weekly tank samples. I sometimes run them myself just to keep my hand in."

"So how to we get a sample so quickly?"

"I have containers in Number Three. I could add it to the list and get samples of all of them. There would be a clear paper trail though."

Tommy shook his head. "Too risky."

"It would look very odd if I went and did it."

Barbara groaned. "So close and yet so damned far."

They sat silently contemplating the problem until the waiter arrived with their lunch. "Let's enjoy our meal," Matthew said. "So how long have you two been together?"

* * *

They ordered two cabs, and Matthew suggested they wait under the awning at the entrance. "I have an idea. Someone owes me a favour, and I think I can persuade them to get the sample."

Barbara frowned. "I take it we shouldn't ask details?"

"Best not to. Let's just say his alternative might be a stint in gaol. You two go and play tourist this afternoon. If anyone is watching that will throw them. Can we meet tonight after ten?"

"Of course," Tommy said. "Coming to the hotel might be obvious. Can we meet somewhere else?"

Matthew pursed his lips and moved his mouth back and forth as he thought. "The Singapore Flyer might be best. Meet me by the wall near the restaurant. At that time we can probably get a car to ourselves."

"Just after ten?" Tommy asked.

"Between ten and ten-thirty. There's an exhibit you can look at while you wait."

"We'll be fine."

The cabs arrived together. Matthew shook their hands. "See you tonight."

"Be careful."

* * *

Tommy took Barbara's hand as they walked the few hundred metres to the Flyer. "It's just like The Eye," he told her, trying to counter her objections to the giant Ferris wheel.

"I haven't been on that either. I was stuck on one as a kid. I don't like them."

"These are totally different and enclosed. I can't leave you on the ground, and Matthew's right, it will be private."

Barbara grumbled something he did not catch. He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her against him.

"Alright, you win," she said gruffly.

"Never in doubt."

"Don't get too cocky, Mister." Tommy chuckled and pulled her closer. "Why is that funny?"

Tommy leant down and gave her a quick kiss. "You would never have said that this afternoon. What was it you were calling for?"

"It was much easier to argue with you when we weren't sleeping together."

"But not nearly as much fun."

Barbara looked at him. "Sleeping with me or arguing?"

"Both. Sex is very different with you."

"Why?" Barbara looked horrified.

"Not in a bad way. It's hard to explain. With you everything is exciting - touching you, kissing you, making love to you. We seem to merge like one mind in two bodies. I've never experienced that before, and it makes it so much more intense. But it's also fun. We laugh and joke and play around. It's as if we've been sleeping together for years and are completely comfortable and yet it is new, and I never know what to expect."

Her eyes lit up like the lights around them, and he realised that he had answered questions she had not dare ask. Public displays of affection were subtly dissuaded in Singapore, but to hell with the rules. He pulled her off the path behind a tree and kissed her slowly and deeply.

"You'll get us arrested."

Tommy led her back onto the path. "That was worth it."

* * *

They did not need words as they continued towards the Flyer. Barbara basked in the afterglow of his kiss, and probably still from their spontaneous encounter at the window before they had left for the rendezvous. After years of repressing her desires, Barbara found that far from being shy with Tommy, she was expressive and in some ways aggressive in the way she made love to him. They belonged together, and she was determined that Mr Tan and his plot was not going to ruin it.

"Matthew's there already."

"He looks worried."

Tommy dropped his arm, and they flipped from lovers to detectives as they hurried over. "Hi, Matthew," Barbara said with a tight smile. "What did you find?"

"Not what we expected."


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note:** I am sure that my internet search history for this story has raised a flag in some organisation...

Also, I am travelling this week, so my posting schedule may be disrupted.

* * *

"Then what is it?" Barbara demanded.

"Not here," Matthew said as he gestured to the ticket window. "Three adults please."

No one spoke as they wound around the metal guide rails and up the ramp to the boarding platform. As Matthew had speculated, they were given a capsule by themselves. Barbara shuddered as the door slid shut and clicked into place. The car moved slowly and smoothly backwards.

"It's a great view. First of the city, then over the East Coast."

Barbara sensed Tommy's impatience. "Well, what was it?"

Matthew took a deep breath. "Well hidden for a start. I had three samples taken. Two one litre samples then a five litre. I know that sounds paranoid, but I wanted to be sure. The first two were water. Distilled water with a colourant to make it look like a chemical. That made me highly suspicious. But the third one confirmed it as there was broken glass in the sample."

Barbara screwed up her eyes and looked at Tommy. He seemed equally perplexed. "Water and broken glass?"

"To fool Customs, some companies place a bottle over the sample cock inside the tank and fill it with the genuine product as per the manifest. Then the rest of the tank usually has substandard or watered down versions. I thought someone could use the same trick and they had."

Matthew looked pleased with himself but he still had not disclosed the real contents. "So other than glass, what was in the third sample?"

"It's not good news, I'm afraid. As close as I can tell, it is Ethyl _N_ -2-diisopropylaminoethyl methylphosphonothiolate."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "In English."

Matthew looked at each of them in turn. "It's a nerve agent. A nasty one. Worse than sarin. It attacks the central nervous system causing paralysis and eventually death when it stops the diaphragm, making breathing impossible."

"Bloody hell," Barbara said.

Tommy took her hand. "So aerial disbursement like sarin?"

"Not necessarily, although if it was put into a dirty bomb, the fallout could spread it over half of England," Matthew said. "It's more lethal by absorption through the skin. Anything over about two square inches is deadly. So a palm on a handrail, holding a strap on a train, putting your hand out to steady yourself would be fatalWhat's nasty about this is that they can let it off any time and then it will settle on surfaces and kill people much later. Because it's not a living organism, it stays potent for a very long time."

Tommy exhaled loudly. "It would take authorities too long to identify something like that. They could kills thousands."

Matthew nodded. "In a big city with it being dispersed in public areas and on public transport, it could be hundreds of thousands even a million. If that tank is full, it's enough to kill everyone in a big city. Think New York, Tokyo, London."

The trio stood speechless and stared at the sprawl of Singapore slowly rising into view. Barbara's mind raced with the possibilities.

Tommy ran his fingers through his hair then swore. "Have you been exposed? Or the man taking the sample?"

"No. I prefer to take precautions. He had a chemical-safe gas mask and thick gloves which is standard when we are identifying an unknown substance. I told him it was a container shipped to us months ago but we had lost the paperwork and did not know what was inside. He has no idea it was actually dangerous. I used a full Rad suit thinking it was radioactive. If either of us had been exposed, we'd be dead by now."

"So where's the sample?" Barbara asked.

"Sealed inside three anti-corrosion tins and locked in my safe. I have no idea how to dispose of it safely. I was thinking it needs to be encased in several metres of concrete and buried somewhere in the middle of a desert."

Tommy rubbed his face with his palm. "Any idea how they would have sourced it?"

Matthew shook his head. "Most of this stuff was developed in Russia, but I imagine it could be produced anywhere. And I suppose for the right price anything is for sale."

Barbara sank onto the benches that lined the capsule. "This is way above our pay-grades. We need to report this to the authorities."

"Who?" Matthew asked. "If we tell MI6, you can bet James Thornbury will have us all killed, probably starting with Peter. Have you heard from him?"

Tommy pulled out his phone. "No messages." He sat next to Barbara. "How do I check Facebook?"

"Like this." Barbara clicked through a few screens. "He's posted a photo with Tim."

Tommy studied the photo carefully. "He angled it oddly but casually."

"Typical selfie," Barbara said wondering what he had seen.

"Maybe. See that man in the background?"

Barbara took the phone and enlarged the photo. "Yeah, I do. You think he sent us a photo of Mr Tan?"

"It's what I would try, so yes. I think we can assume that."

"Can we ask Winston to run it through the computer?"

"No. It might cost him his job."

"The fate of mankind versus Winston's job. We all know one extra photo can be caught up in a run."

"Barbara, no. I won't put him in that position. We'll attack it from a different angle"

She knew he was right. "Yeah, okay. Sorry."

Matthew sat down beside her, but looked up at Tommy. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Find out what you can about it, especially how to destroy it safely. But don't poke around on the internet too much. It might arouse suspicion."

"One of the benefits of my profession is that I have access to a large database and library. I will find something we can use."

"We also need to keep an eye out for any movement, or registration of a planned shipment. We need to know where it was headed."

"I'll keep a watch on it."

"And what are we going do Tommy?" Barbara asked.

"Go back to the hotel and work through everything we know trying to find a way in to this mess. In the meantime, we probably should look at the view."

* * *

No matter how they tackled it, the two detectives had no idea how to proceed. They had a watch on the container and knew it's contents but rather than giving them more options, it had narrowed them.

"Maybe we should go to Hong Kong and confront Mr Tan," Barbara said.

"How? And what do we do? Kidnap him and hold them to ransom? Your container and plans in exchange for your boss?"

"Something like that."

Tommy raked his fingers through his hair and began to pace in front of the window. "Maybe we should go to the High Commission tomorrow and tell them what we know."

Barbara kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet onto the couch. "No one will believe it. And..."

"And what?"

"If we tip their hand, they might hurt Peter."

"We should go to Hong Kong and get him out of there."

Barbara shook her head. "No. As soon as we booked our flights, they'd know and he'd be in trouble. Maybe we can warn him."

"How?"

"Leave a message on Facebook."

"What? Hi, beware, there are people about to torture and kill you."

Barbara made a face. "Where's your phone?"

Tommy walked over and sat next to her. "Here."

"We could send him a private message, but if someone gets his phone it's too risky. Let's comment on his photo, and hope he understands."

* * *

Peter was unsure whether Mr Tan was the evil mastermind Tommy believed, or merely an addict co-opted into turning a blind eye as his company was used. The man carried himself well, had impeccable manners, and seemingly no interest in running his shipping firm. Peter could see the signs of addiction. Mr Tan needed to gamble. He had been almost literally pulled from the casino in time to make their flight, and in the cab, in the airline lounge and on the flight he had barely lifted his head from his iPad and his online slot machine game.

Mr Tan had expensive tastes and checked into the famous Peninsula Hotel. Met by a Rolls Royce at the airport, he and Peter had been whisked along the freeway into Kowloon while they sipped on Bollinger. The once brilliant harbour was shaded by the pollution from China's rapid industrialisation. It made the city close in on itself and Peter was overwhelmed by the sheer density of the high-rise apartments that dominated the landscape.

The Peninsula staff appeared to know Mr Tan and fawned on him enough to make the usually dour man smile. They were escorted to a corner suite high in the tower behind the classic old hotel that had been proudly staring out towards Hong Kong Island since 1928. The main room was decorated in soft grey wallpaper with starkly contrasting lacquered black wood trim and splashes of gold. A brass telescope was positioned at the window which had a stunning panoramic view of the harbour and cityscape of the island. Traditional Chinese watercolours of misty mountains and bridges hung on the walls. Expensive abstract sculptures depicting the human form sat on pedestals and in wall nooks. Most posed in acts of sport, war or love. Peter walked to the window and watched mesmerised as vessels of all sizes and shapes hurried by. One was a traditional dark wooden junk with a high stern and three faded red sails that fluted like the dorsal fins of a sailfish.

"You like?"

"Yes, Mr Tan. You have exquisite taste and the view is wonderful."

"I own this suite," he said and puffed out his chest. He clicked his fingers at the porter. "Show Mr Lynley to his room. We leave for dinner in thirty minutes. Formal dress."

Peter's room looked out over the Kowloon streets. In the fading light, they were alive with scurrying ant-like people, and myriads of colour from flashing neon signs all vying for attention. Yellow taxis wove through traffic as they hurried up and down the roads. Hong Kong was full of movement and life.

He quickly unpacked, his clothes looking lonely in the vast walk-in wardrobe. He called guest services and asked to have his suit and shirt steamed. The man arrived within a minute and Peter realised the suite had a private butler. He smiled then shook his head. He could get used to this lifestyle, but it was typical of Tommy to have the title and money and eschew such luxuries. Sometimes Peter thought the wrong son was the heir.

He quickly showered, then as he waited for his tuxedo to be returned, he pulled out his phone. As expected, there were no messages. Several of his friends, especially old school chums, had commented on his photo with Tim. There was also a comment from George Cornwallen.

 _Looks like you are having fun. Found the missing horse. Weather here worse than expected. Make the most of your time there. Stay as long as you can._

Peter frowned. His brother was sending him a message, but he was not sure what to make of it. He assumed the horse was the container and the comment about the weather suggested its contents were worse. How much worse than nuclear material could you get? But what did he mean by telling him to stay?

Peter ran his hand through his hair then poured a whiskey from the decanter on the table. As he sat at the window he thought that if he behaved like his brother the answer would come.

"You want me to delay Mr Tan's return to China? How exactly?" Peter finished his whiskey trying hard not to think and hoping an idea popped into his head. He laughed aloud when one did. He picked up his phone and messaged his brother.


	15. Chapter 15

Tommy barely slept. It was still dark when he finally conceded that he was not going to go back to sleep. He gently unfolded Barbara from his arms and extricated his leg from under both of hers. Her face was peaceful and untroubled as she snored softly against his chest. He carefully slid from the bed, replacing his body with a pillow. He smiled as she snorted and mumbled a complaint before pulling the pillow into a tight hug then sighing contentedly.

Tommy wrapped the robe that was hanging over the chair around his nakedness then went into the main room. He wanted to watch the dawn and think about their next move. He sat on the couch and checked his phone.

"Why the bloody hide! And I thought you'd changed."

"Who?"

"Barbara?"

"No, it's the tooth fairy. Who were you expecting?"

She emerged from the bedroom still naked. Tommy marvelled at how at ease she was around him now. Only a fortnight ago he would never have dreamed she would be sharing his bed, his body and his life so completely. "Sorry to wake you."

"That's fine. The pillow was no substitute, but thank you for trying."

He could not help but smile at her. "Come here."

Barbara sat in his lap and put her arms around his neck. "Who didn't change?"

"Peter. Listen to this. _Big Brother, be a pal and send 25000 GBP to my Barclays account ASAP. Having fun here in HK. P._ We're worried about averting catastrophe, and he's having fun."

"Tommy, he knows how important this is. It that the type of message he would usually send?"

"Yes. I hear nothing for months then get a demand for money. Never that much though, usual 5000 or so."

"So, firstly, if it is a usual type of message it might not raise any red flags in MI6. Secondly, let's assume he has something specific in mind given the unusually large amount of money. And thirdly, it most likely relates to what you asked him to do - keep Tan out of China. Does the message make more sense then?"

Tommy reread it and sighed. "Yes. How do you occupy a gambler? Take him gambling. And Peter would need a reasonable stake."

"That's what I think. Are there big casinos in Hong Kong?"

"No. People there go to Macau, about an hour away by ferry."

"Even I've heard of Macau. Sort of an Eastern version of Las Vegas. I'll bet that's what Peter has in mind."

Tommy laid his cheek on her shoulder. "Pun intended?"

"Of course."

"I jumped to a conclusion."

She nodded. "Mmm, I think so. One based on your prejudices. You have to stop that, and give Peter a chance. He understands what's at stake here."

Tommy knew Barbara was referring to the brothers' relationship as much as saving the world. "Sorry, Peter," he called into the air.

"Good. Now how do you get that sort of money together at short notice?"

"I'll just transfer it from my Barclays account."

"I forgot. That's probably petty cash for you." Her tone was unmistakable.

"No," he said warily, "but I have it available. I can't help having money, Barbara. I don't want it to be a big issue between us. As far as I'm concerned, it's now your money too."

"I'll share your body, but not your money. I won't have people say that I am a gold digger."

"No one would ever accuse you of that."

"Wouldn't they? Sometimes you have no inkling about the real world."

"But..."

Barbara kissed him. Tommy suspected it was mainly to end the conversation. Her hand slipped under his robe and began to caress his chest. "Transfer the money, then come back to bed."

Tommy studied her backside as she stood and walked towards the bedroom, giving a seductive wiggle just before she went through the door.

* * *

Peter was relieved to see the text confirming the transfer of the funds. More importantly, Tommy trusted him.

Over dinner Peter had convinced Mr Tan that visiting Macau had been a long held ambition. He had talked excitedly about the historic Lisboa Casino and the new shining Vegas-like meccas including the Wynn and MGM. Mr Tan responded enthusiastically, and was the most animated Peter had seen him.

"I regret... I will never see them again."

"Why not?"

"Once I return to China, gambling over. No casinos."

"But there's always gambling somewhere if you know where to look."

Mr Tan sighed and shook his head. "No. I would bring shame on my family. My older brothers would lose face in our city. They are both, how you say, big shots?"

Adept at manipulation from his days as a junkie, Peter moved in for the kill. "Really? That's terrible. I know what that's like. My brother is an earl. He is always reminding me of my duty to our good name."

"The younger brother's curse. We were born before the one child policy when a large family boasted your wealth. My brother, he's... a strong man. I cannot disobey."

"I understand. Once you return... but... maybe we should go. Just a few days. A last fling before you go back. I have 25,000 pounds but I'd like to convert it to more. Set myself up to go back home so I can be independent of my brother."

"You like blackjack?"

"Is that your game, Mr Tan?"

He nodded. "Yes. Also pai gow."

"With the dominos?"

Mr Tan nodded quickly. "Yes, yes. Very fast. Very fun."

"I've always wanted to try that."

Mr Tan looked at his watch. "Two days. We go tomorrow." He looked across and signalled the waiter. "More wine."

Peter smiled tightly. He was a terrible gambler. _Sorry Tommy, but your money is going to a good cause._

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time Tommy got up the second time. Barbara was sitting on the edge of the bed stretching.

"Thank you."

She looked over. "What for?"

"Loving me."

"Generally, or specifically the last hour?"

Tommy laughed. "I meant generally, but the last hour was especially good."

"You're not hard to love... most of the time."

"Good." Tommy climbed back on the bed and on his knees moved over behind her. He folded his arms around her and pulled her against him, leaning his chin over her shoulder. "There's something I have wanted to say."

Barbara put her hands on his and leant back. "Mmm?"

"I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean that as my proposal. It was more a statement of intent. I should have asked you properly."

"What the whole ring-in-a-box-bended-knee thing? No, I'd be too embarrassed."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think once we... made love the first time... we knew, didn't we?"

"Yes."

"Then no need for the awkward bit. I'm not leaving you, so we may as well make it legal. But I don't want your money. Just enough for us to live comfortably if we give up the Met. Leave it to any children, if we decide to have any, or your family. Not me."

"But Barbara..."

"That's my only condition, Tommy. I'll even play the game with your social responsibilities, but no excess money. Promise?"

"Promise, but I won't be a husband who doles out an allowance each week. You will have full access to my transaction account and credit card. How much you choose to spend, or not, is up to you. Agreed?"

"Peppermint or spearmint?"

"What?"

"Toothpaste. Which do you prefer? Seeing we are sorting out the domestics."

Tommy took that as agreement to his condition. "Peppermint, and I won't budge an inch on that one."

"Me either. See we can agree."

"On many things. The next decision is what do we do about that container?"

* * *

Tommy was showering when his phone rang. Barbara saw it was Matthew, so answered it. "Hi. Tommy's just in the shower."

"Can you meet me for lunch?"

"Sure. Where?"

"Got a pen? I'll give you the address."

Barbara hung up just as Tommy emerged from the bathroom. His hair was wet and shaggy where he had rubbed it with his towel, and his legs still glistened with water. It was hard to focus on the conversation. Tommy wrapped the towel around his waist. "I asked who was on the phone."

"Oh, sorry. I was distracted. It was Matthew asking us to lunch. He gave the address. He sounded a little pleased with himself."

"Good, he might have an answer."

The address was a private house. Tommy was about to ring Matthew to double-check when Matthew opened the door. They paid the taxi driver then walked up the steps to the entrance.

"Thanks for coming. This is my friend Alan's house." Tommy must have frowned because Matthew hastily added, "he doesn't know the specifics, but he can help."

Alan was a middle-aged man who looked much older. A heavily lined face, receding hairline with long wispy strands of grey combed over the top, and a bulbous nose added ten years to him. A further five came from his ill-fitting flared jeans and beige nylon bodyshirt. Tommy shook his hand. It was damp.

"Pleased to meet you," Tommy said in his best Lord Asherton tone.

"Yeah, man. Cool." His accent was South African.

Barbara extended her hand and managed a friendly greeting that made Tommy regret his curt ness. She looked at him and frowned. He tried to sound friendlier. "Matthew says you can help us."

"Caustic."

"I'm sorry," Tommy said in a half apology, half question.

"You can render it harmless, more or less by hydrolysing it with caustic."

"Oh, I see. How much and how do you add it?"

The aging hippy tapped his forehead. "That is the problem. Lunch?"

Tommy had no idea what he had expected, but somehow a barbecue and spit-roasted suckling pig had not featured in his thoughts. It was however a welcome change. He was amused to see Barbara politely consuming almost half the pig. He was surprised she had room for the fruit salad dessert.

"That was delicious," she said as they finished.

"I like to retain the traditions of home," Alan said.

"Where's home?" Barbara asked.

"Rhodesia. Well, Zimbabwe now. But our family had to leave out farm back in the eighties. We went to South Africa of course, although my older brothers went to Australia. My parents thought England was too dank and miserable. No offence."

Tommy smiled. For the first time it was genuine. "None taken. It can be dank."

Alan lost his smile. "Time for business. The best thing would be to steal the container, decant half into an empty one, fill the two halves with caustic and then wait twelve hours. It would be neutralised pretty much by then. Might burn a few hands if they touched it but more likely just give people itchy hands or a rash."

Matthew dropped his spoon which clanged loudly against his bowl. "Sorry. I doubt we can steal it, but we might be able to have two containers delivered and placed adjacent to it and pump it out into one and take it away then fill the original with something harmless from the second. Then we'd have to find a safe place to decant the half and add the caustic."

"Would that be possible?" Tommy asked.

Matthew pulled out a pen and notebook and made some notes. "We'd need a container of caustic, a container of something alkaline to fill the current one, an empty one to decant into, another empty one to take half of it. And a warehouse somewhere, a truck driver we could trust. It's messy."

"But could it be done?" Barbara asked.

Matthew shrugged. "The containers I can arrange. And I can procure the caustic. The issue is how to get them placed close enough to pump out, and how to do that unseen. It would take several hours with a portable pump. And to be safe the people would need to be in protective gear which makes them fairly obvious. So it would have to be done at night, and we'd need to do something about the security guards and cameras. We'd need a warehouse to then do the rest. It will cost money."

Tommy raked his hand slowly through his hair. "Once we have it, how do we dispose of it?"

"Well, I normally wouldn't recommend this," Alan said, "but the best thing would be to take them out to sea and dump them. When the ocean eventually rusted through the tanks, it would leak out in small streams from the holes, it would be absorbed by the ocean and dispersed over a wide area making it relatively harmless."

Barbara looked at Tommy. He nodded. For someone who did not know the specifics, he seemed to know a lot. He looked at Matthew. "How do you dump containers at sea?"

"I'd tow them on a barge and sink it."

Tommy nodded. "We have no choice. Let's do it."


	16. Chapter 16

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, real life has been very distracting. But now that I have a new windscreen, sorted all the family's medical appointments, organised a party in Dec for 200 people, and have found the owner of the stray dog that took up camp in our backyard, I might have time for these two again.

* * *

Most people would have assumed Peter was staring out at the harbour. Instead, he watched Mr Tan's reflection in the window as he spoke animatedly on the phone to his brother in Guangzhou. Peter's grasp of Cantonese gave him clues to the conversation, but frustratingly not the full picture. Mr Tan lied too easily about why he would be crossing the border three days later than planned, blaming shipping issues for Aqueous. Peter tried not to flinch or appear to listen, but he gleaned some useful details.

Mr Tan hung up the phone then cursed his brother. He walked over and poured two generous scotches. "You like this view."

"Yes, I do."

"You have brother?"

Peter sighed. Everyone thought that he and Tommy were estranged. He assumed Mr Tan had been told that by Tim so thought he should emphasise it. "Yes. We're not close. He's older and inherited the title, the Eighth Earl of Asherton, and all the money. I was the spare son. The unnecessary one it seems."

My Tan crossed the room and stood beside Peter. "I too am younger son. My brother is very... strict. He does not like me disobeying him."

Peter laughed. "Your brother and mine, they are the same."

Mr Tan handed him a drink and raised his glass. "Then we make whoopee with our time."

"To whoopee," Peter replied as they clinked glasses.

"I have helicopter booked. We leave in one hour."

"One hour to whoopee. I'll go and pack."

Once he was alone, Peter posted a message on Facebook about going to Macau. When he knew the hotel, he would do a Facebook check-in so that Tommy would know where he was staying. His next challenge was trying to work out how to send him the information he had learnt. He quickly tossed his clothes into his suitcase as he thought about it.

He decided to be cryptic and hoped that Tommy was as smart as everyone thought. He opened Facebook and spent ten minutes working his message.

 _Eyeing off a new set of wheels. Very nervous about making the wrong choice. I thought Korean but believe something in Yokohama is a safer bet. Need to decide in 3 days. Any advice?_

Peter paused with his finger over the Post button. He took a deep breath and stabbed at his screen. "Whatever will be, will be."

* * *

"This feels illegal," Barbara said as she pulled the black balaclava over her head. "I don't think that shop assistant believed we are going trekking in Mongolia."

Tommy smiled grimly. "It is illegal, but right now I don't see any alternatives. And who cares what she thinks?"

Barbara pulled the itchy material off her face. "I suppose. And Matthew confirmed we are right for tonight?"

"Yes. The containers are being moved into place today. He has hired a warehouse near Tuas. We just have to be smuggled onto the island and help him transfer 30,000 litres of a lethal nerve agent into other tanks. A piece of cake, wouldn't you say?"

"Is that the stoicism of the British upper classes showing?"

"No. It's just me trying to be positive."

"Does it sound weird to say that even though we are doing this for the right reasons, I still feel guilty?"

Tommy reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "Because you are a good person."

"Not that good. I'm having an affair with you, remember?"

"It's not an affair. Neither of us is married or in other relationships."

Barbara sensed he was offended. "Sorry. It was supposed to be a joke."

"No, I'm sorry. This is starting to get to us isn't it?"

"A bit. But there's been one enormous positive."

Tommy grinned at her then addressed his lap. "Barbara thinks you're enormous."

"Tommy Lynley! I did not say that." Barbara picked up a cushion and hit him over the head.

Tommy grabbed her and playfully wrestled her to the floor. "But it's true."

"Why you..." Barbara heard Tommy's phone ping. "You should check. It might be Matthew."

Tommy tried to kiss her. "He can wait. This is more important."

"Phone. Now."

He grunted then rolled over and picked up his phone. "Facebook post."

"From Peter?"

"Yes, he's my only friend remember."

"Oh yeah. What's it say?"

"He going gambling in Macau. You were right."

Tommy was frowning, and Barbara could tell he was trying to figure something out. "And?"

"The next one is about buying a car."

She sat up. "A car? Show me." She read the message. "He is trying to tell us something. But what?"

"Eyeing off a new set of wheels. That makes no immediate sense. Why would he need a car?"

"But the next bit is clear. Very nervous about making the wrong choice. I think that means what it says, but what decision does he have to make?"

"I've no idea, Barbara. Unless..."

"What?"

"Eyeing. Aqueous Humour is the fluid in our eyes. It might be a reference to the container."

"So..." Barbara chewed on her bottom lip as she contemplated the next sentence. "You think the container is destined for Yokohama?"

"I think so. It's Japan's largest port. "

"So, him needing to decide in three days. Maybe that's when Mr Tan is crossing into China?"

"Possibly, or the container is going to sail."

"Either way, we have our timeline. How do you want to respond?"

"I don't know." Tommy got up and walked to the window. Barbara followed him and put her arm around his waist. He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

"You okay?"

"I'm worried about my little brother. I got him into this."

"I know, but he took on the risk. He's a Lynley. He'll be fine."

"Lynleys are far from infallible."

"But they are intelligent, good-looking, good-hearted men. You have to have faith in him."

Tommy raised his eyebrows, then turned and walked to the couch. "Hmm. You think he's good-looking?"

"Yes. But you are far sexier."

"Barbara!"

"You asked."

"I did, and I rather like the answer. I should post something to acknowledge that we understand."

"Yeah. Tell him to stay away from Asian cars."

Tommy gave a half snort, half chuckle. "Actually, what about this?" He typed a few words then showed her his screen.

 _Stay with the British makes; they are much more dependable. Don't rush your decision. Enjoy your holiday._

Barbara smiled. "Yeah, he should understand that. We have everything under control, sit back and enjoy gambling my money."

"Not as convincing when you say it like that. Twenty-five grand for that, another fifty for the containers for tonight. Saving the world is costing me a fortune."

Barbara laughed at his face as he tried to look upset. "Come on Bruce Wayne - admit it, you like being able to do something positive."

Tommy beckoned for her to join him on the couch. "It's only just gone two o'clock. We have three hours. We could go out and see some more of Singapore."

She ran her index finger down the side of his face. "If something happens tonight, then I would rather have spent the time with you. Naked. Touching. Kissing. Maybe making love. Do you mind not going out?"

Tommy snuggled her close. "No, especially given the alternative offered. Here or in the..."

Barbara was tired of words, so she kissed him.

* * *

"You want us to get in there?" Barbara asked Matthew. "It's like a coffin."

"Just until we get onto the island. Fifteen minutes at maximum."

"At least we'd be buried together," Tommy quipped. "And it's bigger than my box in the Kombi." He immediately made his face neutral when he saw that her fear was genuine. "You're with me. I'll look after you. You can get on top of me."

"Where have I heard that before?"

Tommy felt his ears colour when he saw Matthew sniggering then turning away. "Barbara, please!" He leant down and whispered, "And I always ask if you would like to, not order you to."

He climbed inside the box. Barbara grumbled under her breath then climbed on top of him. "Satisfied?" she asked as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Not until this is over. Okay, Matthew, lock us in."

The next ten minutes felt like ten hours. The van sped to the island checkpoint, then sat idling for an eternity. Eventually, Tommy could hear voices and the rear door being opened then banged shut. Barbara alternated between holding her breath and panting heavily. Tommy stroked her back. "Just breathe normally."

Gears crunched and they were off again, slowly. The sound of the tyres changed and Tommy assumed they had turned from the road onto the concrete hard stand area. The van turned left, then right, then left again. A good minute later the van slowed to a halt.

The back door opened and Tommy heard Barbara sigh as Matthew unbolted the box. "All clear. It took longer than I thought. Sorry. You two okay?"

Tommy looked at Barbara. She was sweating around her hairline, nut otherwise seemed intact. "Yes."

"The cameras are just over there. Here we are in the only area that is not covered. We can set up here. I have arranged for the camera feed to be interrupted at exactly ten o'clock. My tech guy recorded two hours of footage from last night and will feed that into the guard house monitors."

Barbara looked at Tommythen at Matthew. "What did you have to tell him?"

"Nothing," Matthew said with a dismissive toss of his hand. "I may have promised to destroy the video I have of him sleeping on the job. It's instant dismissal. He needs the job."

"You're a regular little blackmailer," Barbara said with a hint of skepticism and considerable awe.

Matthew shrugged. "I drugged his cocoa with sleeping pills then pretended I had it all on film with a near miss outside. He was mortified, but co-operative."

Tommy was impressed. "Are you sure you're not an MI6 agent?"

"You'd never know." Matthew laughed then pulled on his balaclava. "Now we go full ninja."

Tommy helped Barbara secure her coveralls. The thin suit was similar to their forensic suits, only a heavier material. The balaclavas not only hid their identities, but when coupled with safety glasses and a safety shield on their hard hats, protected their faces from exposure to the nerve agent.

Under direction from Matthew, they helped connect 3-inch flexi-steel hoses from the container to the pump and then to the first of the two empty tanks. Their only job was to stand by a container and open and close the ball valve when Matthew gave the signal.

It took nearly two hours to set up and transfer the liquid, and another forty minutes to fill the Black Dragon tank with diluted potassium hydroxide. They worked carefully, ensuring none of the liquid spilled on the ground. Matthew flushed the system with the potassium hydroxide before disconnecting the pump and hoses and packing them back into the van.

"Done. Now we just have to wait."

"What time are these containers collected?"

"About six in the morning," Matthew replied. "They should be at Tuas by seven."

"Do we get back in that box?"

"No, security is about stopping people getting onto the island, not leaving. Just sit in the back. It's a fifteen minute drive."

Barbara let herself snuggle back against Tommy's chest as the van drove. She was relieved when they drove past the checkpoint.

"Looks like we got away with that," Tommy said as they crossed the bridge and back into SIngapore's mainland.

"Yes... why are we slowing down?"

Blue and red lights flashed in front of the van. Matthew pulled over. Barbara could see a uniformed officer at the driver's door.

"Matthew Haddock?"

"Yes. Can I ask what's going on?"

"Please step from the vehicle, Sir."

"Why?"

"The UK authorities have asked us to detain you on suspicion of committing treason against the United Kingdom."


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note:** apologies again for the delay. Technology, ants and life have been conspiring against me - and winning!

* * *

Thinking quickly, Tommy pulled Barbara down. Still dressed in their protective suits he hoped they would be hard to see as the torch beam darted across the walls of the van.

The policeman flicked off his torch and turned back to Matthew. "Lock the vehicle, Sir. We will send a recovery vehicle to impound it."

"This is ludicrous," Matthew protested.

"You have to tell your story to your government. This is not a Singaporean issue."

"Are you taking me to the British High Commission?"

"No, Police Headquarters. Now come, Sir, or we will have to restrain you."

Tommy could not hear any more of the conversation, but he heard the distinctive beep and click as the vehicle was locked by the remote. Three car doors slammed then an engine revved and faded into the distance.

"I think they're gone," Tommy said as they carefully sat up. He peeked out the driver's window. "We're alone."

"Any bright ideas? Our DNA will be all over this van when they search it."

"I know." Tommy rummaged around and found the bag Matthew had used for their suits. "Take your suit off and stuff it in here. We'll need them. Have you got any matches?"

"No. I gave up smoking years ago. You know that."

"We should torch this van."

"Matthew might not be too happy. Won't it add suspicion?"

"Possibly. But not doing it is likely to land us in gaol. It's a lot harder to save the world from there."

Barbara was already half out of her suit. "I'll show you a trick I learned once. Are we going to drive it to Tuas first?"

Tommy shook his head. "Too risky, and it'd give away our destination."

"I knew you'd say that."

Tommy handed her his suit and watched as she struggled to force it into the bag. "So what's your plan?"

"Pile all the stuff we don't want in the centre of the van. I'll be back in a second." She grabbed an old rag and disappeared.

Tommy worked gathering the paper and cloths scattered in the rear of the van. The vehicle shook as Barbara undid the fuel cap on the side. The rear door slid open. "Hop behind the wheel. When I say now, accelerate hard."

Tommy raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Barbara exuded quiet confidence. She lifted the small bonnet. Tommy felt the van sway.

"Now."

He floored it and waited. Nothing happened. "Barbara?"

"Again." This time yellow light burst forth behind the bonnet. "Got it. Get out."

Tommy grabbed the bag and climbed out. Barbara had a burning rag in her hand. She held it under the fuel-soaked strip of cloth hanging out of the fuel inlet. After a few seconds the rag crackled then burst into a fierce blaze.

Barbara tossed the burning rag she was still holding into the back of the van. They crossed the road and stood under a tree to watch the fire take hold. Inside the van caught quickly. They watched in horrified fascination as thick back smoke poured from the edges of the doors. With little warning there was a whoomph and the fuel tank exploded. Hungry flames engulfed the vehicle.

Tommy looked across at Barbara in awe. "Something you should tell me about?"

"No."

He raised his eyebrow. "So you were never part of some Acton arson gang?"

"That's not Acton. I learnt that from a case I worked on before I met you. Young boys were torching cars out on one of the council estates. The SOCOs showed me how they did it."

Tommy shook his head. "Let's get out of here before anyone sees us, but I'm glad you always take fastidious notes at crime scenes."

* * *

Peter stared at the pile of chips in front of him representing nearly five million Hong Kong dollars. At tough ten dollars to the British Pound, he carefully separated out the equivalent of the £25,000 he had borrowed from his brother.

He looked over at Mr Tan. He too was sitting on a small fortune. "You my good lucky charm," Mr Tan had told him repeatedly over the eight hours they had been standing by the roulette table.

Some losses, but far more wins, had begun to make the younger Lynley wonder if he was right. Now he stared at the table. Black 20 screamed to him. He had won by minimising his risk by betting odds, or evens, black or red. Gradually as his winnings built up, he had moved to columns, and dozens. Did he dare risk the lot on one number? If he lost, he would still have Tommy's stake, and would have succeeded in stalling Mr Tan's return to China. But if he won? He would have over £1,000,000 which although petty cash for the family estate, was enough to buy a modest flat in London and help him start a drug support centre.

"All or nothing, Mr Tan," he sad as he pushed his chips onto the 20 square.

"Yes, yes. Balls crossed."

Peter took a sip of his drink to avoid laughing. His gambling partner had once been told that it was a British way to wish people luck. He raised his whisky. "Ball crossed."

He closed his eyes as the white ball plinked over the wheel. He could almost see it rolling around and around over the highly polished wooden surface, slowly descending, then bouncing over the dividers as it sought a home. Each rotation made a low whoosh. They slowed, and echoed, then disappeared as the ball, with one final bounce, settled into a number.

"Black 20," the croupier said in a monotone, mechanical voice.

Mr Tan danced around and hugged Peter who stood numb. The thought of one more spin tempted him, but he recognised the voice in his head. It was the same one that had always convinced him that one more shot would not make him an addict, would not mean he failed Oxford, would not estrange him from his brother. "No. You don't win today." He signalled the cashier that he was cashing his chips.

* * *

Both being dressed in black from neck to toe, Tommy knew they looked decidedly suspicious. He stripped off his shirt and hoped his short sleeved singlet looked like an ordinary tee-shirt. "Have you got anything on under that shirt?"

Barbara frowned. "I am not parading around in my bra."

"Well, this will have to do. Let's walk up to the main road and hail a cab."

At five in the morning, it took ten minutes before a taxi came along. Tommy gave the driver the address and tried to act as if everything was normal. Seven minutes later they pulled up in front of a large warehouse which based on the white concrete and piles of dirt around the base of the shiny new chain link fence, appeared to be only newly constructed. Tommy paid and helped Barbara from the cab. He walked to the large sliding gate and pretended to unlock it while the cab went to the end of the dead end street and made a U-turn.

"He's gone," Barbara said.

"Okay. Look for a way in. It there isn't one, we'll have to climb over."

Barbara sighed then traced the fence line. "Over here."

Along the side fence, there was a place near the sewer line where the fence extended over a large pit. Tommy climbed under, took their bag, and then helped Barbara through the narrow gap.

"Matthew said that the rear warehouse door would not be locked. Let's hope he's right."

They made their way to the rear of the building. A red door was the only entrance. High above them was a line of windows but if the door was locked, it would be impossible to climb up to them.

Barbara turned the handle. They both sighed when the door opened. "So far so good."

Inside the warehouse looked even taller. Skylights in the flat roof allowed enough moonlight in to silhouette two large trucks in the centre of the floor with enough space between them to park the third vehicle. On the flatbeds were two tanker containers marked with the logo of Matthew's oil company.

Tommy found the lights. With a hum, two rows of industrial pendant lights flickered to life. As they warmed up, the space slowly became brighter. Other than the tanks, the warehouse was empty.

"What's that smell?"

"Caustic. It must be the tanks."

"Great. What time is the container due?"

"It is scheduled to be picked up at seven, so maybe seven-thirty or a bit later."

Barbara yawned. "I don't suppose you have anything to eat?"

Tommy shook his head. "No, sorry. Matthew was going to take us for breakfast while we waited."

"I hope he's okay."

"Me too. I only hope we can complete this before he tells them everything."

"No. He won't talk."

"If James Thornbury is behind this, as I suspect, then there is no safeguards. He's just as likely to torture him. Matthew's not trained to withstand that."

"Not inside the British High Commission surely."

"I'm sure James has a location just like this picked out. The man has power. And he will use it. There's too much at stake and we don't even know his motives. Greed? Power? Revenge on society? Is he being blackmailed? There's so much we don't know! But if they killed Charlie, Matthew is expendable."

"So are we."

Tommy nodded. "We have to focus on neutralising the tank. Then we can think about our next move. You should try to get some sleep."

"And you?"

"I'll try when we have the container hooked up and transferring."

Barbara cocked her head. "Tommy."

"I will. I promise. Now let's sit over there by the office wall and rest at least."

The office was empty and had rough carpet on the floor. When Tommy opened the door he was assaulted by the smell of fresh paint and new carpet. "It's probably marginally more comfortable in here."

Barbara sat down with a sigh. Tommy sat beside her and propped his back against the wall. Within a minute, Barbara had laid down and snuggled her head into his lap. He had barely had time to smile before she started snoring.

* * *

Tommy woke with a start as the roller door began to rattle open. Barbara jumped up. "It's here."

As the door opened, a red semi-trailer loomed over them. The driver pulled it into the space between the tanks and switched off the engine. Tommy was surprised to see another European alight from the cab. Without a word the man crossed to the door and pressed the large remote unit that hung beside it. The door clattered down.

"Where's Matthew?"

"Not here just at the moment," Tommy replied.

"Was that his van burnt out on the Jurong Pier Road?"

Tommy did not answer. "Who are you?"

"George Lazenby," the man said with an Australasian accent.

Tommy frowned at the familiar name, but could not place it.

"You are not James Bond. Who are you?"

Both men turned to Barbara. Tommy could see she looked thoroughly over everything.

"David Grattan. I work with Matthew."

"Australian?" Tommy asked.

"God no. We can actually play rugby."

Tommy smiled. "Ah, a Kiwi. What did Matthew tell you?"

"Enough that we didn't trust anyone. He had me over a barrel but I guess at the end of the day Commonwealth blood and all that."

"Why should we trust you?" Barbara asked.

"Because you need me."

It was clear that Barbara did not like the man. He had similar reservations but knew they did need him. "Do you know what we have to do?"

"Yeah, transfer half of this container into each of these tanks very, very carefully. Then we add those barrels of caustic to the tank on the truck. Then all three have to be moved to the wharf to be loaded on a barge. They are being sent to Vietnam, but will meet with an accident and sink at sea..."

"Don't containers float? Isn't that what damages a lot of ships?" Barbara interjected.

"Not these. They will be chained to a barge then the barge will be flooded. It's heavy enough to pull them under. Far safer than pushing them off the back of a ship at sea."

Tommy squeezed Barbara's shoulder. "Let's start. What do you need us to do?"

The urgent chirping of his mobile made all three jump. Tommy pulled it from his pocket. "Lynley." He listened then the phone disconnected.

"Well?" Barbara demanded.

"That was James Thornbury."


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note:** Sorry for the delay. My life has not been my own this week between unexpected visitors I thought would never leave to technicians who won't do anything because 'this is not my job, you need a different technician from my company to do that' to delivery men who run 6 hours late because their truck breaks down...

* * *

Mr Tan had also made a tidy profit on the tables. So tidy in fact that it was at least five times Peter's winnings. After the money was transferred into their accounts, he shouted Peter to a night on the town. Bright lights, a dazzling floor show and copious drinks mostly supplied by the casino keen to win back some of its money, had taken their toll. Peter's head throbbed. Ka-boom... Ka-boom... Ka-boom...

They giggled like schoolgirls as they fell into their suite just before seven o'clock. "You want breakfast?" Mr Tan asked.

Peter waved his hand. "Nooooo... no foo... hic..."

Mr Tan laughed and slapped him on his back. "No China!"

Peter leant against the doorframe and nodded. "Okay."

"I serious Peat-wer. You help me? Help me be refoo-gee to England."

"Ah..." Peter's mind raced as it tried to clear a pathway through the fog. Had he really heard that? "Are you serious, Mr Tan?"

Mr Tan nodded as he gripped the back of the sofa. "Yes. I have great secret that make me val-u-abble citizen."

"What secret?"

Mr Tan tapped the side of his nose. "If I say, it not so val-u... val-u-a... good."

Before Peter could answer, Mr Tan tumbled forward face first onto the sofa. A loud burp shook the couch. Peter managed to wrestle Tan's limp body onto the seat and into the recovery position before he staggered to his room. He had to phone Tommy. This was too urgent to hide in a cryptic note.

* * *

Barbara watched as Tommy's face drained of colour. She knew instantly that the news was not good.

"Well?" she demanded.

"That was James Thornbury."

"On the burn phone?"

"No. My real one. He told me..." Tommy ran his hand slowly through his hair.

Barbara rushed over and put her arm around him. "What? What did he say?"

"That they had Peter and Matthew and that unless I turn myself into the British High Commission within the hour, they intend to start amputating Peter's limbs."

"Who's Peter?"

Tommy glared at the laconic Kiwi leaning casually on the door jamb. "My brother."

Barbara stroked Tommy's arm. "That's hideous, Tommy, but you know he doesn't have him, don't you?"

"How can you possibly assume that? They have Matthew."

"If he really had Peter, he'd have traced your phone and be here with his goons. He wouldn't phone with his threats."

Tommy nodded. "Yes, you might be right."

David interrupted. "I'll start getting ready for the transfer. If they do come let's destroy as much of this stuff as we can."

Barbara nodded. "Good idea. We'll be there in a minute." She turned her attention back to Tommy, making him look at her. "Send Peter a Facebook message and check. Something that he would only reply if he's safe."

Tommy pulled out the phone when it began to ring. "I didn't do that," he protested.

Barbara frowned, concerned it was Thornbury again. "Answer it."

Tommy put it on speaker. "Yes?"

"Thank God. Wisten, I am drunk. Very drunk, but you have to... BURRRRP!" Peter giggled loudly. "Whoopsie. Sorry. You have to help me."

"Peter! Thank God! Are you alright?"

"Yeah... just drunk... my head hurts like the devil himself is in residence. We won... I'm rich... I can pay you back. Hic... I did well... be proud of me, Tom-my."

"I am, Peter. Have they hurt you?

"Has who hurt me?"

"Anyone. Are you still with Mr Tan?"

"Yes."

"At the casino?"

"His hotel. Tom-my, hic..." Over the speaker the deep breath Peter took sounded like a hurricane. Tommy moved the phone a little further away.

"What, Peter?"

"I need advice here. Mr Tan wants ass... eye... lum in England and I... you have to guide me."

"He wants your help to get asylum?" Tommy clarified.

"Hic... yep."

"Okay, Peter. Listen carefully."

* * *

"Now," David called as he signalled to Tommy to slowly crack open the valve. Tommy pushed the lever. The hose bumped against his leg as it filled. David was watching the pressure gauge. None of them knew if there would be a chemical reaction when the nerve agent reached the caustic. The other tanker vibrated then shook violently. Tommy and Barbara exchanged worried glances.

"That's normal," David reassured them.

Barbara walked up to Tommy and took his hand. He gripped it tightly but looked down and tried to be stern. "I thought you agreed to wait in the office in case anything happened."

"If something happened to you, my life would be over anyway."

David came over to join them. "The pressure is fine, but the temperature is rising. I don't think there's a problem though, just an exothermic reaction. I set the flow rate fairly low to be safe, but although we have heat, I don't think it is bubbling or creating gas."

"Good. How long?" Tommy asked.

"Probably an hour. Then we have to backflush to clear the line then set up for the other tank. We should finish by lunchtime. I have two drivers coming at two o'clock to collect them and take them to the barge. I'll take the other one." David looked at his watch. "The barge leaves at five. So we have some buffer."

Barbara groaned loudly. "Lunchtime?"

"I brought some tea in a thermos and some pastries if you want brunch."

Tommy smiled as Barbara's face lit up. "I think that's a yes, David."

* * *

The makeshift meal was surprisingly good. Barbara smiled across at Tommy who had donated his second chocolate croissant to her. He grinned back at her. "Feeling better, my love?"

"Yes, thanks, Tiggles." She leant over and gave him a quick kiss.

"I'll check on the transfer," David said as he stood and left the room.

"I think you embarrassed him," Tommy said as he leant forward to kiss Barbara again.

"Ugh! It was only a kiss."

"Hmm, but if he saw your eyes, he probably thought you had other things in mind."

"Here? No!"

Tommy laughed. "Yes, it's not my choice either. Barbara?"

She noticed the change in his voice and expression. "Mmm?"

"I'm going to ask you to do something you won't like."

Her smile faded. "What?"

"Someone needs to stay and help David, but we need to organise our next move. I was thinking, if you go back to the hotel you can make bookings and arrangements."

"And leave you here alone? I'd worry all day if you were alright or lying in agony choking on that stuff, or had been arrested, or found and shot by Thornbury, or..."

Tommy put up his hand. "I knew you wouldn't like it, but we need to leave Singapore as soon as we can. If you make the bookings and do our packing, we could leave tonight."

Barbara closed her eyes and sighed. It made sense. "And how do I get back to the hotel?"

"Cab from the main road is safest. Pay cash."

"Okay. And what do I use to pay for the tickets?"

Tommy pulled out his wallet and handed her his diamond credit card. "This."

Barbara grinned at him. "And what's the limit? I might want to buy something exotic, like a green zebra."

Her lover grinned back. "A green zebra? Right, well if you find them online, buy two. One might get lonely."

"No, seriously, what's the limit. And I'll need your PIN."

"Two hundred thousand pounds. The PIN is your birthday - the month and year."

Barbara jerked her head back. "My birthday? How long has your PIN been my birthday?"

"Several years," Tommy said vas his face flushed red. "That's not relevant. Book six different flights all leaving about the same time. Three to Hong Kong on various airlines, one to Manila, and another to Guangzhou or Macau. Make sure they are refundable. We will decide which flight on the way to the airport. It will make it harder for Thornbury to find us. He will know where we are going once we check in, but until then I want him to miss something, or need to utilise a lot of resources that he might not have without raising suspicion."

"But don't we need to meet Peter in Hong Kong in the morning?"

"Yes, but we can book onward transport from any of those."

"Okay."

"And pay the hotel bill plus four additional nights in advance. I don't want Thornbury tipped off that we have checked out."

"Okay. But do I pack everything?"

"Yes." Tommy frowned. "On second thoughts, no. We'll just take our small bags. Include my suit and the outfit that you wore to the memorial service. We will return to the hotel before we fly home. Our tickets are return from here, so unless he has someone in the airport system, Thornbury might not know we have left for hours."

* * *

In his dream, Peter was standing on the plains of Northern America watching a moving black sea teeming across the plains. It was only when he rolled over that he realised the stampede was in his head and was not emanating from the bison herds.

"Oh, God! What was I thinking?"

He struggled to sit up then crossed to his bathroom. His watch said he had only been asleep for five hours. He was nauseous. It came in waves that rose up through his chest before falling again, fooling him into thinking he was fine before the next storm engulfed his stomach. The room seemed lopsided. He kept one hand flat against the wall as the other held his head to ensure it did not roll off his shoulders.

Unable to stand he collapsed on the toilet and steadied himself by holding the toilet roll holder. The world stopped spinning and settled into a gentle rocking sway. Not caring about his dignity, Peter did not try to stand. It was better to pee like a girl than split his head open on the marble floor.

As he sat, he tried to remember Tommy's instructions. The first thing he had to do was get Mr Tan safely back to Hong Kong on the afternoon ferry. The way he felt now, he might as well have been tasked to take him to the moon.

* * *

Leaden skies were a portent of the rough ferry trip over massive swells and buffeting winds. Peter's heaving stomach held firm, but many of the passengers were grey and sweated profusely. Most held paper bags advertising the casinos to their mouths. The acidic stench of vomit and stale alcohol filled the ferry's enclosed deck. Condensation from the fetid breath of two hundred weary gamblers clouded the windows, obscuring any view. Every few minutes, the boat lurched, and a wave crashed over the windows leaving a salty trail as water dripped down from the open deck above.

Beside him, Mr Tan's head nodded against his chest. His breathing was laboured; a staccato wheeze that reminded Peter of the sounds that came from his father's room in the weeks before he died. Peter shuddered. Taking no chances, he nudged the older man in the ribs. The wheezing stopped, replaced by a gentle snorting snore.

A little over an hour later the ferry slowed to a stop beside the pier. Peter glanced at his watch. It was almost seven o'clock. By the time he had waited until the other passengers disembarked, he had succeeded in wasting fifteen minutes.

"Come on, Mr Tan. Wakey-wakey. Time to go."

"No, too soon... I sleep."

"You can sleep at the Peninsula. They've sent their Rolls for us."

"Western decadence."

Peter smiled. "Yes, probably, but it saves a long walk. Now, come on."

Mr Tan was due to cross into China in the morning around ten. Tonight they would return to the Peninsula Hotel and pretend that their adventure had been just that. Mr Tan's staff, which Peter suspected were paid by, and loyal to, Mr Tan's older brother, would expect them to leave around eight to travel up to the border. Peter was to enter with him as an accompanying businessman and travel to the family compound where, Peter suspected, he would rapidly become expendable.

When they reached the Rolls, Peter acknowledged the driver with a curt nod. "There you go, Mr Tan. Sit back there. Mind your head. Do your belt up. That's it. We'll be at the hotel soon."

He sank back into the cream leather seat and fastened his seatbelt. As the Rolls drove off, Peter looked out at the people scurrying along the footpaths of the busy road. To save Mr Tan, he had to prevent anyone from suspecting he was aware of the danger, and he had to follow Tommy's instructions. Peter tried carefully to remember the plan, but now, with a degree of sobriety, it sounded crazy. He took a deep breath. He had to trust Tommy, but he had a sinking premonition that tonight might be his last.


	19. Chapter 19

"Any trouble?" Barbara asked when Tommy returned to the hotel.

"No. The transfer went smoothly. I think David was more worried about adding caustic to the empty container, but he did a good job hiding it. He is staying with the tankers until the barge leaves. What about you?"

"Flights booked. Bags packed. Oh, and I wore a hole in the carpet worrying about you."

Tommy took her in his arms and laid his chin on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. About everything."

"Everything?"

"This whole mess." Tommy leant back. "No. Not about you. Never. I would never have made it through without your help... physically, emotionally, and intellectually."

Barbara studied his face. He looked tired and old. She ruffled his hair and smiled. "No one said saving the world was easy. Why do you think Batman and Spider-Man wear masks?"

"To maintain anonymity?"

"No, so people don't see the bags under their eyes. You look exhausted."

Tommy nodded. "I am, but we have more to do. I'm worried about Peter."

"You told him what to do."

"He was drunk, and I simply outlined a quick plan. Peter has to sort through a lot of possibilities and issues. I don't know if it will work."

Barbara snuggled into his chest. "He's like you. He'll figure it out. Now, much as I could stay like this all night, we have a plane to catch. And you need a shower."

Tommy laughed as he hugged her more tightly. "What a charming thing to say to your man. How long have I got?"

"About twenty minutes."

* * *

"Changi Airport please," Tommy said as he and Barbara got into the cab.

"What terminal?"

"Er... international."

"All terminals international," the driver replied.

Barbara tried hard not to laugh. Tommy had walked straight into that one. He looked across and gave her a wry grin.

"I'll let you know when we get closer."

The driver muttered something in Chinese as he accelerated hard. Tommy raised his eyebrows and took her hand. "We need to decide," Barbara said.

"Which do think?"

"Let's just go direct. Thornbury will track us anyway by the time we are due to meet Peter. Our subterfuge might delay him by an hour or so, but that's not enough time to justify the wear and tear on you."

Tommy nodded. "Me? What about you?"

"I'm too tired to be tired. Tomorrow will be a difficult day. We need as much rest as we can get."

Tommy reached over and squeezed her hand. "Wise as always. Terminal Two please Driver."

* * *

Being an American chain, the Hong Kong hotel that Barbara had booked was not as lavish as the Mandarin Oriental had been. Their room's decor was based on beige functionality and clean lines, rather than any extremes. The view was not as immediate, but even set back from the water in the Admiralty district, Barbara was still impressed with their room's panoramic corner of glass that pointed directly at an unobstructed view of the harbour. Sitting in bed, they could look straight out at the variety of passing vessels silhouetted against the continually changing kaleidoscope of Kowloon. A large television dominated the polished teak wall a few feet from the somewhat bouncy bed. A small desk was built in beside the television, allowing just enough space for Tommy to set up his laptop. Other than a large comfortable chair and small coffee table under the window, the room was barren. The bathroom was equally as commercially bland with grey marble wall tiles, a dark grey granite floor and matching bench.

"Good choice," Tommy said as he inspected the room. "Perfect location."

Barbara was uncertain. "Are you sure? It's not like the other one."

"Positive. I was trying to impress you there. Here we just need a bed close to the meeting point. This is paradise compared to some of the places we stay for work." He walked over and embraced her as she continued to stare out of the window. "Or are you getting used to the high life?"

"No! This is still a luxury for me."

"Having you in my bed is my luxury." Tommy kissed her neck. "Speaking of which..."

"I thought you were tired."

"I slept on the plane."

"I know. You snored."

Tommy nuzzled her neck sending delightful shivers down her back. "Averting potential disaster is exhausting."

"I can tell." Barbara turned in his arms. "I love you, Super Tiggles."

Tommy grinned against her cheek. "Show me."

* * *

Mr Tan seemed nervous.

"Relax," Peter told him as they ate breakfast. "Or our minders will get suspicious."

"Big risk. Maybe I... should return."

"No. You understand that your brother will kill me if we go there."

"Why? You just my cover."

Peter took a deep breath. He was about to take a gamble and wondered if his luck would hold. "Tim Thornbury also has a brother, James, who knows my brother, Tommy. My brother is trying to stop him. I suspect your brother is involved and you know the details. That's why you believe you are valuable."

Mr Tan paled visibly. A sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead. "Then you not come."

Peter looked up. He understood now why Tommy had been so frustrated with his stubbornness and petulance at times. "Then your brother's men will kill me here."

Mr Tan looked down. "Your plan? It will work?"

Peter nodded. "Foolproof. It will save us both."

Mr Tan nodded. "Okay. I just worried."

"Don't be. My brother has everything under control." Peter chomped on his toast. It would stop his teeth chattering.

* * *

Tommy ordered breakfast in their room and enjoyed the wanton pleasure of sitting naked in bed watching the view as he fed Barbara fresh fruit. "Another piece of dragon fruit?"

"No. Thanks." Barbara leant back against the pillows. "If only we more time to just enjoy the day."

"We will, once Peter and Mr Tan are safe. Tonight we can have a Cantonese banquet on a junk and relax."

"You think it will all be over?"

Tommy sighed. "I hope so. I really hope so."

* * *

Mr Tan phoned his brother and told him he wanted one more day. "Visit Happy Valley for evening races. Take Peter. He never been to night races."

The conversation switched to Mandarin. Peter could tell from Mr Tan's answers that his brother was less than pleased. To his credit, Mr Tan stuck to his guns and played the addicted gambler to a tee. Or maybe he was addicted.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked when Mr Tan rang off.

"Yes. My brother insists we cross tomorrow."

Peter was keen to ensure any flapping ears of the servants did not hear any suspicion. "Great. I want to see the horses race at night. I've heard the atmosphere is incredible."

"Yes, yes. It is."

Peter had been flipping casually through a tourist guide. "Can we go to The Peak today? And maybe Ocean Park to see the pandas?"

Mr Tan frowned. "Yes, if you wish. Both Hong Kong side. Same as the Valley. Convenient."

"That's our plan then. I'll get dressed. Half an hour?"

Mr Tan nodded. "Half a hour."

* * *

Tommy made love to Barbara slowly. The British Consulate did not open until nine o'clock, and after finishing breakfast, they had had almost two hours to shower, dress and walk five minutes through the Queensway Shopping Centre to the British building.

"What's wrong?" Barbara asked as she held Tommy in her arms, his head result lightly on her stomach.

"Nothing, that was as wonderful as ever."

"I don't mean the sex, Thomas Lynley, but you are trying to hide something from me."

He laughed softly and snuggled closer. "Not really. I just have this... sense of foreboding."

Barbara stroked his head. "About what?"

"I'm worried that someone is not going to make it." Barbara tensed. Her hand gripped his almost violently. Tommy felt worse for having voiced his fear. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Yes, you should. It felt like you were making love like it was the last time. Is it me you think will die?"

"No. I don't know. You, Peter, me. I hope it is me."

"I don't! I can't... stop talking this way. Thinking of trouble attracts trouble."

"I know, but to be sure, I think you should stay here. I couldn't bear to have you hurt."

"You do know that won't happen. I'm not staying here worrying myself sick all day. I had enough of that yesterday. We agreed, Tommy - we're a team. We look out for each other. Live, die, whatever, we do it together. Understood?"

Tommy pulled her down to his level and kissed her hard. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

At nine thirty, Tommy and Barbara were ushered into the office of Paul Quilty.

"Tommy? Tommy Lynley? What brings you to Hong Kong?"

"Hello, Paul. This is Barbara Havers, my fiancée." He turned to Barbara. "Paul and I were at Exeter College at Oxford together. We lived in the same wing."

Paul shook her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Barbara. I am glad Tommy has finally found his soulmate."

Barbara frowned. How could he possibly tell that? Unless he was in with Thornbury. "What's your relationship with James Thornbury?"

She carefully watched his reaction. From the way his ears went red, and he looked down, she knew he had something to hide. She asked again. "James Thornbury. I asked about your relationship."

Tommy coughed. "Paul, Barbara is also my partner in the police service. We have a situation on our hands, and our nerves are a little overwrought."

Barbara glared at him. "Don't make excuses for me, Tommy. We have a right to know."

Paul looked at both of them in turn. "We are watching him. He has some suspicious links to China, through his brother and personally."

"Barbara, I'm sorry, I should have explained." Tommy tried to put his arm around her shoulder, but she shrugged him away. "Paul is the Asian Chief of Intelligence for the British Government. His job here is a cover."

"You mean he's MI6?"

"No, I report directly to the Prime Minister. I'm part of a group that, shall we say, spies on the spies."

Barbara turned to Tommy. "You knew?"

"Yes. I met up with Paul at a briefing for that case last year involving the murder of the nanny at the Chinese Embassy. I would have said, but I didn't know if our room might have been bugged or the cab driver was in on everything. I needed to see if Paul was still here first."

Barbara took a deep breath. She could understand his logic. "I'm sorry, Paul. We have had a stressful fortnight."

"Perhaps if you tell me what's going on."

Tommy quickly explained the entire case to him, supported by Barbara adding in relevant facts. Paul's eyes went wide at several points, and he laughed at the thought of Tommy being smuggled into Europe. "That's quite a story, Tommy. Certainly one for your memoirs, although, it will probably have to remain classified. But it will give me the proof to arrest Thornbury and his brother. What time are you intercepting this Mr Tan?"

"Eleven o'clock; at the lookout in front of Victoria Peak Station."

"Okay. A public place is good. Eleven should give me enough time to organise back up. Do you think they will be alone?"

"I'm not sure. Peter said Tan's staff work for his brother. Mr Tan has been stalling for days, so I imagine his brother is getting nervous. If it were me, I would have them accompanied or at least followed."

"Any idea of how many men?"

"No, sorry."

Paul walked over and looked out his window. Tommy and Barbara exchanged a look. Barbara knew both men thought that this would be dangerous. Paul turned to face them. "Okay, Tommy, Barbara; this is what I need you to do."


	20. Chapter 20

The humidity hit Peter as soon as they walked out of the Peninsula Hotel. Almost instantly his shirt glued itself to his back, adhering to the sheen of finely beaded sweat that wept from every pore. The morning news had announced that a monsoonal low further south was pushing hot air over Hong Kong, and an early warning had been issued for severe tropical storms and the possible development of a typhoon of China's southern coast.

"Too hot for this," Mr Tan grumbled.

"Today is your only chance, Mr Tan. What's a little stickiness in comparison to freedom? It's not far."

The Star Ferry Terminal was less than 200 metres from the hotel in one of the busiest parts of Kowloon on the mainland side of the harbour. Peter bent down and did up his shoelace. He had seen that in movies and had left one lace loose so that it would look genuine. He glanced around, sure that Mr Tan's brother would have sent people to follow them. None of the people in the street resembled the men who worked for Mr Tan. Although he could not discount Thornbury having his goons watching them too, Peter dismissed any of the Caucasians. Mr Tan's brother would use Chinese security.

Most people moved freely. Businessmen dressed in sharp suits shouted into their mobile phones, trying to make themselves heard over the cacophony of downtown Kowloon. Tourists wandered in haphazard lines snapping photos of the iconic harbour and surrounding buildings. Scores of school children in different uniforms poured from the East Tsim Sha Tsui MTR Station and headed to the Museum of Art, the Cultural Centre, or the Space Museum. Peter saw a man standing by a low wall on the opposite corner of the street dressed in a pink polo shirt and trousers that looked like black combat fatigues. The man looked hastily away. He was a distinct possibility. Another man with a similar military-style haircut lurked about 50 metres down the road fiddling with his watch. He was dressed in a bottle green polo shirt and the same trousers. Peter had no idea how many men there would be, but he would try to keep an eye on those two, and any men in black fatigues. He was surprised they had not made more effort to blend into the crowd, but if they were observing them, they had made their presence surprisingly clear. What worried Peter most was that they might be there to make him feel comfortable and that real danger lurked somewhere unseen.

* * *

Holding hands, Barbara and Tommy turned left as they exited the Consulate and walked towards Hong Kong Park. If they were being tailed, it would not disguise where they had been, but to casual observers, it would appear they had been shopping before walking along a logical route towards The Peak Tramway Station.

"Do you think this will work?" Barbara asked as they entered the park.

"You heard Paul. He will take care of everything. We just need to get a message to Peter."

"Easier said than done. We can't even guarantee Peter will come."

"He will. For once I believe in him."

"So do I, but he's not trained for any of this."

"Neither are we, but we're managing." Tommy pointed to the lake. "There are skyscrapers all around and yet look at that lake. It's beautiful."

Barbara followed his hand. Two large blue buildings that looked like an assembled glass Mechano set dominated the scene, but beneath them was a large pond. A grey pebble beach led into green water. Although it was formed within a low concrete wall that ran beside a broad path around the lake, cleverly placed rocks and plants broke up its line, making it into a sunny oasis beneath a canopy of weeping trees. The flat plates of lily pads formed around large lotus flowers in every shade of white and pink. The lake, unlike the city, smelt of nature and serenity rather than car exhaust, spices and food being stir-fried in scalding hot oil. Reeds around rocks and the edges disguised the edge walls completely. Beyond the lake, she could just see a waterfall dribbling over a rock wall.

"It is beautiful," she agreed. "And romantic."

Tommy smiled then took the hint. He pulled her close and kissed her lovingly. "I'll bring you back after this is over."

"I don't think I ever want to see Asia again."

Tommy laughed then pulled out his phone and insisted she stand so he could take a photograph. "Then we need something to show our children that we were here."

* * *

The Star Ferry was a sentimental favourite of locals and tourists alike. The external cigar shape of the little green and white ferries had changed little in a hundred years. Unlike many ferry services around the world, it operated older vessels that had faithfully tripped between the island and the mainland since the 1950s and 60s. Peter paid for two seats on the Upper Deck. As they stood in the cattle race waiting to board, he noticed Pink Shirt and Green Shirt waiting further back in the queue. He smiled. Surveying the crowd, he noticed a man in a blue polo shirt and the black trousers waiting to board from the ramp below. Like the others, he looked nervous and seemed to be making an effort to stare forward and not look around. Three found. Peter wondered how many more there would be.

They shuffled on board. Peter wanted to see the harbour so persuaded Mr Tan to stand in the open section at the side of the ferry. They filed past the rows of benches with hard seats and a single wooden bar across the back that would be old-fashioned and uncomfortable even for a rural church hall. From what Peter had seen when he bought the tickets, the only difference between the decks was that the top one had windows along the bow and stern sections whereas the bottom deck was exposed to the elements, including water spray and probably waves in rougher seas.

"Smells like too many people," Mr Tan said making his displeasure evident not only to Peter but several locals who returned his contempt.

"Good job I didn't get Lower Deck tickets then," Peter teased, "I saw a man carrying on three boxes of chickens."

Peter watched the harbour as they crossed. Only a few days ago he had been impressed by the volume of vessels crisscrossing the harbour. Now he was struck by the height and density of the buildings. Sparkling modern glass behemoths peppered the skyline on both sides, but the bulk of buildings around the harbour were 20th Century concrete apartments. Behind the island's buildings, there was a surprising amount of greenery with the mountain range running in a ring from left to right. Tourists pointed out landmarks. Nestled on the island's foreshore, the Convention and Exhibition Centre looked like a giant silver insect had landed. Behind it up the hill, Peter spotted Victoria Peak where they were headed. A large white building that looked for all the world like a giant wine glass broke the line of the ridge. He could just see a straight line through the trees and assumed that must be the tramline. As they drew up to the ferry terminal, the International Finance Centre rose vertically in front of them, the top impossible to see. It was a dominant statement about the primary business of the island.

* * *

Barbara's reaction to the tram, which in truth was a funicular railway, amused Tommy. Excited by the big panoramic windows that extended across part of the roof, Barbara had looked forward to the ten-minute trip. Her enthusiasm waned as they were crowded against the window on hard wooden seats by a seemingly neverending stream of tourists. As the tram began to climb the track angled sharply, and it felt as if they were tipping backwards. Barbara grabbed his arm. "All the buildings are pointing at the mountain!"

Tommy laughed. "It's an optical illusion. They are all pointing up I can assure you."

"I'm not convinced."

Her complaints waned as the tram pulled slowly up the hill. Out the window, the harbour emerged from the concrete. It was an impressive harbour, the blue waters of it contrasting with the brownish patina of smog that hung over the city courtesy of China's rapid industrialisation. Tommy shook his head. "They say that up until the 80s this was one of the world's most beautiful cities, but the smog has spoilt the view."

"Maybe, but it is still magnificent. All those buildings. So many people crowded together. It's sort of like everyone lives in gigantic housing estates but without the crime and social problems that go with it."

"I'm sure they have their share."

Tommy felt her shiver. "Yeah, for one thing, their gangs mean business, not like our hooligans."

Now Tommy shuddered.

"You okay?" Barbara asked.

"Yes, I was going to be non-politically correct and say a Chinaman just walked over my grave, but here that might be too literal."

She lowered her eyes and glowered. "Don't even joke about it."

As they stepped from the tram into The Peak Station, Tommy's phone rang.

"Hello... ah, yes, Paul... good. I'm grateful that you rang me. We had been worried... oh yes, of course... no, not yet... yes. Wait on... Yes... thank you again... I will. Oh? Yes, that is wonderful news."

"Well?"

"That was Paul."

"Yes, I gathered that."

"Don't be impatient. Let's go outside and look at the view."

Once they were outside, Tommy looked around as if admiring the scenery and getting his bearings. Satisfied they were out of earshot of anyone he continued. "Paul said that they have located Matthew and that he is fine. He has been held at the Embassy, but no one had questioned him. Paul arranged for him to be released. He spoke to him by phone a few minutes ago. Matthew confirmed that David had received a report that the tanktainers were lost at sea off the coast of Vietnam."

"That's a relief. On both counts."

"Yes. He also said the original container was shipped last night for Yokohama. We have four days before it arrives and they potentially discover that it is harmless."

"With any luck they won't discover it, and the police will catch them in the act. The Japanese don't take kindly to terrorists."

"Either way, people will be safe. Now we just need to rescue Peter and deliver Mr Tan to Paul and..."

"We can go home."

"Yes. Although we might hang around for a few days of sightseeing."

"Maybe, first things first." Barbara smiled, but Tommy knew she was not keen. He wondered how he could change her mind.

"Yes. Now we just have to wait for Peter to arrive. Let's stand over here and look at the view."

* * *

Mr Tan insisted that they take a taxi to the tram station. Peter watched with amusement as the Black Pants Brigade, as he had nicknamed them, scrambled for taxis to follow.

He tried hard to ignore everyone as they waited on the platform to board the tram. His brother had told him once that the art of surveillance was to ensure no one thought you were looking. Peter positioned Mr Tan near the middle of the platform so that he could turn casually left to watch for the incoming tram and right to look at the TV monitor showing its descent down the track. He watched neither, but each time quickly scanned the crowd.

When the tram arrived and emptied on the other side of the platform, Peter put his hand on Mr Tan's shoulder. "Let the women and children board first."

"Huh?"

"Just wait until I say to move," Peter whispered, then laughed as if he had made a joke. He poked Mr Tan in the ribs, and the little man who looked like he was about to lose control of vital bodily functions, gave a nervous chuckle.

The carriage rapidly filled. Peter put his hand on Tan's back and steered him onto the tram. Peter saw Pink, Blue and Green Shirts board and for the first time noticed Yellow Shirt. A woman on the platform tutted as her husband boarded but she did not have space. Seizing his moment, Peter pushed Mr Tan back of the tram and loudly offered their places to the woman. She quickly boarded as the doors of the tram began to close. It was too late for the Black Pants Brigade to jump off. He resisted the urge to wave to them as the tram pulled away.

"I think we lost them," Peter said proudly.

For the first time today, Mr Tan smiled. It quickly faded as he looked at the TV monitor showing the crowd near the ticket booths. He swore in Mandarin. Two Hong Kongese women standing nearby moved away. "That man. He my brother."

Peter looked at the screen. Mr Tan's brother was surrounded by six men in black fatigue trousers. Then Peter also swore as a man turned from the ticket booth to face the camera. James Thornbury looked up as if he sensed his prey was watching.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's note:** I was asked about how I research locations. Except for Quebec City used in an earlier story, I have been to the location if it is a real place. Made up sites are combinations of experience and imagination. I lived in Singapore for over six years and travelled extensively in Asia for work. I have been to Hong Kong many times and, pollution aside, it is one of my favourite cities. I sometimes refer to my photos, or Google Maps, Streetview etc. to help me with specific points.

Also, we are nearly there. Only 2-3 more chapters... Hopefully, I will finish it this weekend.

* * *

Tommy checked his watch every few minutes until Barbara laid her hand on his arm. "Stop it. You're making me nervous."

"I told him we'd wait here, but I had no idea it would be so big or complex. What if they're waiting on another level? Or they went over to the Galleria building?"

"He won't have gone to the other building. You were very clear. Stay by the escalators. You wait here. I'll go up to the other floors and look them come back down. Don't move from here unless your life depends on it."

Tommy ran his hand through his hair then nodded. "Be quick. I don't want to leave you alone."

Barbara squeezed his arm then walked calmly to the escalators. Those going up crossed over those going down in an open atrium. Even if they were on the escalators, she or Tommy would see them.

Five minutes later she returned. "They're definitely not up there. We just have to be patient."

"Not one of my strengths," Tommy admitted.

"Good practice."

"For what?"

"When we have kids, and your daughter misses her curfew."

Tommy smiled. "She won't be allowed out of the house until she's 30."

* * *

Peter had no choice. They had to take the next tram. With the Black Pants Brigade already waiting, and Thornbury and the elder Tan behind them, this was the only tram they would be alone.

"My brother, if he come here, he mean to kill us," Mr Tan said as the tram began its ascent.

"That thought had crossed my mind."

"What we do? I not ready to die."

"Neither am I," Peter said. His mind was racing trying to think of a way out. As they passed the Kennedy Road Station, he had an idea. "Offer those boys money for their coats and hats."

"Why? They Chinese Home boys. Terrible coats."

"And the last things your brother would look for you in."

Mr Tan's face lit up. "Peter has plan."

Peter smiled tightly. "Hurry please."

Mr Tan purchased their new lightweight faux-silk coats for an exorbitant price. Peter chose the blue one with a Minnesota Timberwolves logo along with a Chicago Cubs baseball cap. He hurriedly pulled them on, ignoring the sweaty smell. Mr Tan had the red of a Chinese team Peter had never heard of, but they made the coats look more authentically theirs.

While MR Tan had been bargaining, Peter had studied the map that came with their tickets. After they passed the May Road Station, Peter pressed the stop button. For another two agonising minutes, the tram climbed the steep hill. As a platform came into view, the tram slowed, and the doors opened. Peter and Mr Tan hopped out and walked casually towards Barker Road.

"This way," Peter said as soon as the tram pulled out of site. "Findlay Path is hidden from the view of the tram."

They hurried up the hill on the narrow concrete path. The wok-like shape of the Peak Tower soon came into view. "My brother is waiting in there, but that's where the tram pulls in."

"How we let him know?"

"Good question."

They walked a little further. Peter spotted the path for the Lions Pavilion. It was a rougher track through the trees, emerging at a two-storied lookout. With thick, grey stone balustrades, and red-tiled roofs highlighted with shiny green tiles topped with carved dragons, it was styled like a Chinese garden temple. The view over Hong Kong was quite spectacular, and Peter stopped to admire the nuanced character of Hong Kong expressed in the architecture, harbour and the quiet but determined way that nature and old values merged with the bustle of the modern age.

"No time for view."

Peter grunted. "Yes, sorry."

Again his mind was trying to formulate a plan. Then he spotted his mark. A Caucasian woman aged about thirty stood alone looking wistfully at the city. Her clothes were cheap but clean and functional. Her hair was shiny and healthy like her skin but was cut without any consideration of her head's shape or the way her hair grew. The result was an unruly mop with a lock that flopped into her eyes. The way she continually brushed it away reminded him of his brother.

"Excuse me. Are you walking down into the city, or returning to The Peak?"

"Me? Er, The Peak. Why?"

She sounded English but with an odd flattening of her vowels. "Are you English?"

"Not really. Australian, although I did live there for three years when I studied there."

"Which university?"

The woman blushed slightly. "Oxford."

"I was at Oxford; at Exeter, same as my brother. We both read history."

"Pembroke. Philosophy, Politics and Economics."

"I was wondering if you would do me a favour?"

The woman looked him up and down. He tried his best smile to allay her suspicions. "What?"

"It sounds incredible I know, but my friend here lost money, a lot of money to a very nasty Chinese gangster. My brother is wealthy. He is meeting us to bail him out, but there were henchmen on the tram, so we brought these coats off two youths and alighted at Barker Road. We can't go to The Peak. I was wondering if you could take him a message?"

"If you'd been visiting me at Oxford, which way would you have come?"

Without hesitation, Peter answered. "Down Market into Cornmarket then straight down St Aldgates then right at the church into Pembroke Square."

"And I suppose to do this I have to pay you money, or you want to hold my camera as security."

"I'm not trying to con you. No, I would simply be placing my trust, and possibly our lives, in your hands and trusting you would honour your commitment."

"How would I find him?"

"He'll be waiting near the tram entrance with a blonde woman. He's the tall and handsome brother. Most women notice him. Peter pulled out his map and a pen he had taken from the hotel. He circled the pavilion. Just give him this and say 'necessary change of plan'. I will always be obliged."

The woman took the paper and gave Peter a genuine smile. "I hope he knows how to get to Pembroke."

She turned and walked towards The Peak, leaving Peter amused and slightly entranced.

* * *

"Do they look suspicious to you?"

"Who?" He turned to look.

"No, don't turn. They'll come past in a second. Bad fitting coloured polo shirts and black army pants. I think they have pistols under their shirts."

Tommy spotted them. A group of four men were arguing in Mandarin and gesticulating towards the tram station entrance. "Welcome committee. How the hell did they find out?"

"They just came up in the tram. Maybe Peter is on the next one. There are probably others on that tram too."

"And here I was, thinking we would pick them up, escort them to the transfer point and hand them to Paul's men then have time for lunch."

Barbara raised her eyebrows. "Hmm, that must be why you have worn a bald patch in your hair."

Automatically his hand felt his head. Barbara laughed, and he quickly pulled his hand away. "The next tram is due in a minute."

"Yes, dear," Barbara said still grinning.

Excited tourists spilt from the station. The first ones, mainly young people, rushed towards the escalators leading up to the rooftop viewing platform. Some locals escorted foreign friends, pointing out Madame Tussaud's and the many dining options. A few people in olive green lightweight travel pants or shorts had hiking sticks and heavy boots in readiness for the steep descent via the park, or perhaps a trek through to the southern coast. The rest seemed like tourists. Three or four couples were in a tour group. They had cameras draped around their necks and maps in their hands. Tommy smiled sympathetically at their smiling female guide being berated by their complaints about the humidity, the steepness of the tram making them seasick, or their hotel bed giving them a crick neck.

The stream dwindled to nothing. "No Peter," he said grimly.

"Next tram maybe."

The men who had argued earlier became visibly agitated, and after some staccato orders from the man in pink, they split up and pushed through the crowd. "The reception committee was expecting them too."

"How do you get to Pembroke College from Exeter?"

Tommy turned. A young woman with fierce eyes was looking directly at him. "Exeter the town, or the college?"

"The college."

"Left On Turl, right into Market, left onto Cornmarket, straight ahead onto St Aldgate's, right at Pembroke Square."

"Your brother asked me to give you this and say he'd had a necessary change of plan." Her hand touched Tommy's, and he grabbed the paper she held. "He was right. You are more handsome."

The woman was gone as quickly as she appeared. "Did she just proposition you?" Barbara asked staring after the woman.

"No, I think she was Australian."

"What? Do they just walk up to people and start chatting them up?"

Tommy laughed. "Not in my experience. She had a message from Peter. Let's go."

Tommy steered her onto the escalators and up to floors. They went out of the building onto the concourse between the Peak's buildings. For the first time, Tommy dared look at the paper. It was a standard tourist guide map like the one he had in his pocket. He opened it and turned it over looking for a clue, almost missing the circle around the Lion's Pavilion in his haste.

"Well?"

Tommy looked up and got his bearings. "This way. The woman had a message from Peter."

They hurried across the open square resisting the temptation to break into a run. At the junction, they checked that no one was watching. The sign above the narrow road said the pavilion was a five-minute walk. "Looks clear," Barbara said as they began walking along the narrow, tree-lined concrete path.

* * *

Peter's mind paced anxiously even though his body stood still with his hands in the pockets of his coat and a fixed stare towards the distant hills behind Kowloon.

"That China," Mr Tan said. "Just beyond those hills."

Peter looked at his watch. Where was Tommy? He walked back to the path and looked up the hill. A short crop of blonde hair emerged from the trees. "Barbara!"

She smiled as his brother came into view. Tommy looked at the coat and raised his eyebrows. Peter shrugged. "We had to improvise. There were four goons on the tram ahead of us..."

"We saw them. They are looking for you."

"Mr Tan's brother and James Thornbury are on the one that just went past."

Tommy cursed. "With helpers I presume?"

"I didn't stop to count. What's your plan?"

"Our rendezvous is on the other side of The Peak." Tommy pulled out the map. If we go this way we can bypass the station but we still have to get onto Harlech Road. They will have someone posted there."

Barbara took the map. "It's much longer, but what if we took this path long the Old Peak Road then right onto Lugard and followed it around? Hang on. It says it is a pleasant walk along a historical plank road, whatever that is. Takes about... bloody hell... an hour. The other way is only twenty minutes."

Tommy looked at Mr Tan. "Would he make it?" he asked Peter.

"I make it," Mr Tan said, clearly annoyed that Tommy was treating him like a package and not a person.

Tommy nodded an apology. "It's better than a confrontation. I don't think they would hesitate to shoot us."

"I don't suppose you have a gun?" Peter asked.

Barbara interrupted. "No. We need to go right now. I can see black pants running up there on the path."


	22. Chapter 22

Running away from help seemed counterintuitive but heading directly for The Peak was likely to get them killed. Mr Tan began to lag behind, so Barbara took his hand and encouraged him to run faster. "You can make it. If I can run, you can."

"No, I surrender or get you all dead."

Peter ran on the other side of him. "No one is dying today. Our odds are better if we get you to safety. Besides, if you're free, you can go back to Macau. If you surrender, there will be no more gambling."

"I run."

Tommy was about twenty yards ahead checking for the Black Pants Brigade to prevent an ambush. Following his map, he turned at a spot in the forest that he thought would hide them from the path. "This way. We'll cut across this gully. It saves about half a mile."

"What about heading for the Barker Road Station?" Peter asked. "We could take the tram down to the city."

Tommy shook his head. "If I were Thornbury, I'd have men waiting at the bottom, and if I had enough men, I'd have them at each station too. It's too risky. All our help is this way."

As they ran, Barbara could hear other creatures moving through the forest. A squirrel-like ball of fur scurried up a tree trunk too fast for identification. As they ran deeper into the woods, birds squawked warnings to their neighbours, creating an oddly discordant yet harmonious symphony. A large animal snorted and crashed through the undergrowth to the left as it tried to escape them. A lime green snake looped down from a tree missing Barbara head by inches.

"That thing tried to strike me. Are the snakes poisonous in Hong Kong?" Barbara asked.

"Yes," Tommy answered matter-of-factly. "But best you don't dwell on it and just run."

Barbara held her tongue and her breath as they crashed on through thick undergrowth that surrounded the buttressed roots of tall trees. The high canopy diffused the light, but where there was a gap, light beamed down spotlighting the bright green leaves of the ferns and palms, making them look surreal and almost plastic.

Tommy ran along a small creek that drained the gully. Barbara followed, dragging Mr Tan and helping him when he tripped on exposed roots and rocky outcrops. The decaying leaves and damp soil on the forest floor squelched under her feet, giving off an odour that reminded her of the mouldy socks she had once found behind her washer. She jumped when two brightly coloured birds zoomed across her path.

As they turned up the hill, a shadow loomed over them. It was the tram line built up on a ramp. The only way past was to crawl through the drainage tunnel underneath it.

"Hurry," Tommy urged them, "we only have to go another 200 yards, and we'll be on the concrete again."

Barbara almost laughed for joy when they tumbled onto the narrow concrete trail. An old metal railing fence, rusty and pockmarked by years of exposure to the damp rainforest, seemed the height of civilisation. Twenty yards to their left, the trail forked. Tommy took a minute to get his bearings and ensure they were heading in the right direction. Everyone patted their clothes back in place and brushed stray leaves from their hair, and tried to rub stains from their trousers.

"This way. It's an old service road that cuts up to Lugard Road. It looks fairly steep. Let's not run and attract attention, but we should walk as fast as we can."

Sweat dribbled down Barbara's back. She felt hot and dishevelled. There was nothing on Earth that would convince her to move to Asia if the weather and forests were so alien and unrelenting. "Amen."

"You pray?" Mr Tan asked.

"Not really, but if any deities are listening, we could do with a bit of help please."

Tommy put up his hand to silence them. He pointed down through a break in the trees. Two Black Pants Brigade goons patrolled the distant tram station. "Glad no one listened to me then," Peter said.

"Come on. Let's keep going."

The last section of road was steeper than any of them imagined. Barbara argued it was close to vertical even though Tommy assured her that the world's steepest streets only have gradients of about 33 degrees, well short of being right angles.

"Whatever. It's still bloody steep."

Through the trees, they could see houses and apartment blocks protruding above the tree line. Most looked old, their white concrete facades greying and streaked with lines of greenish mound. Finally, The Peak came into view. An ancient stone retaining wall hid them until they were only metres from the bottom of Peak Tower. They scurried past the white and glass walls hoping no one hunting them was looking out at that moment.

The next part was the trickiest. They continued up the path at a steady pace. Two local men approached walking their dogs. Barbara hoped their mud-streaked clothing was not too noticeable. After a hairpin bend, a flight of stairs led onto Lugard Road. Above them but well to their left, Pink Shirt was standing at the start of the narrow road. He was facing away from them, scanning the crowd outside the Tower. On Tommy's signal, they raced up the stairs and turned right, walking quickly, but not fast enough to draw the attention of tourists coming the other way.

* * *

Tommy could tell everyone's nerves were near breaking point. Constant fear and vigilance were taking its toll, particularly on Mr Tan. His shirt clung to his body, and there was a line below his hips where sweat had soaked his trousers. Peter looked calm and even managed a smile, but he was tapping his hand against his leg, the same way their father had done. Barbara was stoic but held Tommy's hand in a death grip.

"There is a lookout just up here. Let's stop for a few minutes. It's the main attraction here so we would look out of place if we don't stop."

The road had hugged the hillside until they stepped from under the canopy of low trees onto a walkway suspended out from the cliff. Barbara harrumphed. "I guess this is the plank road. It's only a walkway."

Tommy laughed. "You sound disappointed."

"I am a bit. Oh, wow!"

The lookout itself was little more than a slight widening of the path, but on the harbour side, the view was uninterrupted. To the left, partly hidden by the side of Victoria Peak that they were walking around, distant mountains popped out from the clouds. Planes seemed to fly into the Peak as they disappeared behind the hill to land at Hong Kong Airport. The narrow strip of Victoria Harbour, dotted with ships at anchor, widened as it passed the large container port on the far shore. In the foreground, the high-density apartments and office blocks rose to meet them and stretched for miles along the shoreline of the island. Sunshine glinted off the glass bathing the city in a soft, ethereal light. On the opposite shore, Kowloon looked lower and less dense, an illusion perhaps from the perspective and mountains of the New Territories separating Hong Kong from China.

"This is a much better view than from Peak Tower."

"More expansive," Tommy agreed, "but less intimate. The Peak seems closer to the main harbour."

"I hate to break up your argument, but we do have gunmen looking for us. Perhaps we could come back after we're safe."

Tommy nodded to his brother. "Yes, quite right. Come on."

They walked for another twenty minutes until Tommy began to slow down. "We've passed the last of the houses. There should be a path or steps along here on the left that leads up to Victoria Peak and the gardens. By now, Paul will be waiting up there and wondering where we are. Once he has you, Mr Tan, he'll call in a helicopter and take you to safety."

"I saw a sign to the gardens way back!" Peter complained.

"Paul specifically said these steps as they are rarely used and quite well hidden. It is safer than using the main road. It would have been quicker if we could have come the opposite way around this path, but we have avoided Thornbury at least."

"True. I..."

Peter fell to the ground. The other's looked around then heard the report of a handgun. They dived into the bushes. Tommy grabbed his brother and pulled him in. "Are you hit?"

"My arm..."

Peter's arm was swelling rapidly. Blood pumped through a torn artery and spurted onto the ground. Tommy ripped off his belt and hurried applied it as a tourniquet above the wound in Peter's bicep. "Looks like it has passed right through." He prodded gently. "I don't think it shattered the bone."

Three more shots rang out. One of the bullets grazed the bushes near where they lay. Another hit a tree, which cracked loudly as a branch fell barely five yards away. Mr Tan had already started to crawl up the hill.

"You take Tan, I'll look after Peter," Tommy said to Barbara.

"Leave me. I'll slow you down," Peter said.

"No," Tommy said firmly. "Remember when you were five and you fell off your horse up on the cliff and I carried you home? I didn't leave you then, and I won't leave you now."

Peter knelt up and took a second to steady himself. As another bullet whizzed past them, he lurched to his feet. "You might regret that."

They staggered up the hill, tripping and slipping on the unfamiliar ground. The vegetation was drier than the pocket of rainforest. There were more open spaces, but much more uneven ground with rocks to scramble across. Behind them, men shouted in Mandarin as they noisily pursued them. "At least we know where they are," Tommy said, thinking that more professional thugs would have tracked them silently.

"But we don't... know where more are."

"Hang on. Help is just up this hill, little brother." Peter stumbled a few times, but Tommy held him tightly. His brother's warm blood seeped through his shirt at a rate that worried him. Peter was also beginning to shake, and even though he was sweating profusely, his skin felt cool.

Tommy saw Barbara stop a few yards ahead. Catching up, he could see why. Forty yards ahead was the track they needed to reach the top, but standing on one of the steps was Yellow Shirt turning from left to right as he surveyed the bush. "They know we're here," Barbara whispered, "how do we get past him?"


	23. Chapter 23

Author's note: for the nailbiters amongst you, I thought you should have the next instalment. Final chapter about this time tomorrow - hopefully.

* * *

Tommy quickly surveyed the terrain. "Keep the path in sight, but we have to stay in here. The trees hide us. It's our only advantage."

It took another ten minutes to scramble up the steep hill. Peter was still showing signs of shock, but his condition had not worsened. Surprisingly, Mr Tan had stopped behaving like a scared rich man unused to the rigours of life. He seemed to snap into a mode that he had no doubt been trained for as part of the family dynasty. He led Barbara forward in military style movements staying low to the ground and using the terrain to their advantage.

The trees and undergrowth thickened and the light more intensified. Birds flew around them chirruping and calling to each other as they flew back to their nests. "Open space up there," Mr Tan said pointing up the hill. A ridge line of jutting rocks hid their view but also protected them from prying eyes above. "I smell jasmine and the pepper tree. Might be gardens."

"Good." Tommy looked around. The sounds of their pursuers had faded into the distance, but the men were still calling to each other and searching. "Barbara, can you go up a bit a see if you can see Paul or a helicopter?"

She nodded and without hesitation wound her way through the forest. Tommy's heart raced when she disappeared. To their right, he could just see the path. They had not seen anyone on it since Yellow Shirt. Now they were not moving, Peter's shivering became more violent. He was paler, and his arm hung limply at his side. "Stay with me, Peter. We're almost there."

"I... I'm sorry, Tommy. For everything."

"You don't have to be. I do. And if I could go back and change it, I would. I only ever wanted the best for you."

"I know."

Barbara slipped and slid as she ran towards them. Panting, she took a few seconds to regain her breath. "Paul is up there. I don't think he knows about our friends. If we hurry, we can get there first."

"Hear that, Peter? Not long now," Tommy said. He exchanged knowing glances with Barbara. She shared his concern that Peter might lose consciousness.

They were halfway up the ridge when they heard the first shot. The rotor blades of the helicopter slowly began to turn. The noise blocked everything as the blades spun faster. Tommy cursed when he saw a shadow over them as the machine lifted off and hovered briefly above before moving away. As it retreated, the sound of gunfire returned. An agonised scream cut through the din and reverberated through the trees. Behind men shouted. Tommy looked over to the path. Yellow Shirt had been joined by Blue Shirt and several goons dressed entirely in black. With guns raised, the men ran towards the garden.

"What do we do?" Barbara asked.

Tommy's mind raced. He could still hear the men behind them cursing the forest. They were sandwiched between a firefight and men with guns who wanted to capture them or even kill them. "Keep going. Paul is our only hope. If he sees us, his men might be able to cover us."

"Okay."

Tommy turned to Peter. "Ready? We need to make a run for it."

His brother nodded. Tommy put Peter's functioning arm around his shoulders, and Barbara tucked herself into Peter's body on the other side to help support him. Mr Tan led the way, finding the smoothest path across the terrain. The ground was damper and slipperier, but they struggled on, and almost fell into the open as they clambered over the last rock. At the edge of the gardens, Tommy could see Paul hunkered down behind a low stone wall that framed the boundary of a large covered picnic area and viewing platform. He and his men were firing their weapons towards a green toilet block. Answering bullets send splinters of rock flying from the wall close to where Paul hid.

"Paul!"

The spycatcher looked around. He waved and gestured for them to stay where they were, before issuing orders to two men who, in a crouch, began to run towards them.

 _Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!_

Tommy looked up. "It's going to be okay, Peter. The helicopter is coming back."

Tommy's relief was short-lived as one of the men rushing towards them fell backwards. Turning towards the gunfire, Lynley saw Yellow Shirt standing at the top of the steps looking straight at them. His yellow teeth looked pointed as he grinned evilly at them. Tommy wondered if he chose his shirt to match them then shook his head at being so easily distracted. Yellow Shirt raised his weapon. Without taking his eyes from the gun, Tommy began to push Peter down and out of the line of fire when Yellow Shirt's head exploded in a shocking mass of red spray. The bratatat of rapid gunfire reached his ears. Several men dressed in mottled khaki uniforms ran towards the path firing at the Black Pants Brigade goons whose handguns were no match for the semi-automatic fire of the British Army SA80 assault rifle.

"Yay for the cavalry," Barbara yelled above the noise.

"Technically, they are infantrymen. Cavalry units operate tanks or vehicle mounted assaults." Barbara glared at him. "Sorry, that was unnecessary information."

"It's the sentiment, Tommy. Now help me take Peter... oh, bloody hell, now what?"

A loud explosion rocked the top of the peak and smoke rose from behind the communications masks. A second explosion rocked the helicopter. The pilot immediately began to lift off.

"Rockets or grenades maybe?" Tommy said, somewhat superfluously.

The second of Paul's men reached them. "Is everyone okay?"

"No, my brother was shot through the arm. He's lost a lot of blood."

The man quickly assessed Peter. "We'll medivac him as soon as we can. Stay here and keep him calm. Try to keep him awake." With that, he stood and ran back towards Paul.

* * *

Barbara sat and cradled Peter's head in her lap, offering soothing words and asking questions so that he could not fall asleep. Mr Tan and Tommy watched the battle. Down the path, the gunfire had ceased. The soldiers led two men out onto the flat field of the garden park. One soldier limped behind with a patch of red spreading out over his left buttock. Paul was still pinned down behind the wall, with intermittent fire coming from the left side of the toilet block. The soldiers quickly tied their prisoners to the upright of a small garden pavilion with long black cable ties and left Wounded Buttock to guard them. The squad's leader spoke to Paul, then organised his men for a fire and movement run across the open field to the toilet block. Twenty yards from it, they fire three grenades into the windows just below the roof. Three long seconds ticked by before the windows shattered outward with glass flying as deadly shrapnel across the lawn. Fire burst from the windows and openings as two Black Pants gunmen staggered out and fell five yards from the toilet block holding their ears.

"They mean business," Tommy said to Mr Tan, who seemed agitated as he constantly looked around.

"Where my brother?"

"I don't know."

Two of the soldiers quickly ran forward and secured their prisoners. The other seven raced into the treeline and up the hill to where the grenades had been launched. A minute later a short burst of gunfire made Tommy jump. A plume of white smoke rose above the trees. With a crack, one of the aerials on the mast tilted to the side then fell with a bone-jarring crash.

"Your brother's men are well-armed," Tommy said.

"He has many men. Whole... arm... arghh..." Mr Tan slumped forward, groaning.

"Mr Tan!" Tommy saw blood pool on the back of the Chinese man's shirt above his shoulder. Instinctively, he reached over to place his hand on the wound to slow the blood. He felt something hot press into his temple.

"Leave him and get over there with your girlfriend." Tommy's heart sank at the sound of James Thornbury's well-rounded, Etonian vowels.

His head flicked around to search for Barbara. She was still sitting with Peter. "Barbara, are you alright?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Come here slowly. Don't give this narcissistic psychopath any excuse to shoot you."

Tommy scrambled over to her. "Sorry."

"Mr Tan?"

Tommy shrugged.

"How touching. Well, Lynley, you tried to ruin everything, but if I kill Tan and then Quilty, we can still succeed."

"The Army will catch you before you can do anything."

"I doubt that. I'll just be another white tourist blending into the crowd. I'll be gone before they know it. But not before I wipe the Asherton Dynasty off the face of the Earth."

"Do it," Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I will. I'll shoot you first I think, so Tiggles here can watch his baby brother die."

"Tiggles?" Peter said looking at Tommy.

"Long story. Eton Fresher initiation poem."

"If you're quite finished. Then I'll kill this pathetic creature from the underbelly of London. I'd consider raping her first, but no, I couldn't touch that." He screwed up his nose. Tommy fought the urge to leap up and strangle him. It was only fear of what he might do to Peter and Barbara that stopped him.

"And finally you, high and mighty Lord Asherton."

Barbara growled at him in a way Tommy imagined lionesses did before they leapt on their prey. "At least we die knowing you failed. If you mean you will succeed in terrorising Japan then you have already failed. Your little tanktainer of Aqueous heading to Yokohama doesn't contain what you think it does. After we hydrolysed it, we ensured the VX went to the bottom of the South China Sea."

"You're lying!" Thornbury's mouth curled into a cruel but uncertain smile.

Tommy laughed. "No, she's not. We have done all sorts of crazy things in the last few weeks trying to solve Charlie Wintergreen's puzzle. But I wouldn't trade a minute of it because Barbara and I finally found each other. That's been a wonderful gift you can never destroy by killing us."

"Finally found each other? You worked together for years."

"Someone like you could never understand," Barbara said. She looked over and gave Tommy a loving smile.

"Oh, please! You make me want to vomit."

"And you make me want to evacuate my bowels and feed the contents to you." Barbara shrugged at Tommy when he raised his eyebrows. "It's the Eton version. In the underbelly of Acton, we say I want to shit down your throat."

Tommy laughed, and so did Peter. Tommy tried to smile at her, but she was watching something at Peter's feet. She carefully laid his brother's head down on the grass and knelt up towards Thornbury who was too busy snarling to take much notice. A quick, almost imperceptible flick of her head ordered Tommy to move to his right, behind Peter. He had no idea what she was planning, but he knew from her expression that she had the lead.

"Now!" Barbara yelled. Tommy dived to his right.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's note:** well I see one reader spotted the clues and know the rules - never introduce something new in the climax that you haven't foreshadowed.

I hope you have enjoyed this little adventure despite my unforeseen delays. It ended up being more of a novella than a short story, and far more complicated than my original idea, but it is good if when I write, I can also entertain myself.

* * *

Barbara hated Thornbury. It was not because he was a would-be terrorist or because he was about to kill them. She hated him for the way he was psychologically torturing Tommy. Every cell in her body raised its protective hackles. Tommy was her family, her soulmate. Any threat to him was her call to arms.

At first, she had thought it was the wind causing the grass near Peter's foot to bend and waiver. Then she saw it. Iridescent black and about four foot long, the snake slithered past trying to go unnoticed. Barbara willed it to look at her. She watched it coiled its body then gradually raised its head. Barbara's first thought was revulsion. It sat up and swayed, slowly expanding its neck into the familiar hood that she had seen in movies. Its underbelly was yellow, and the underside of its flared black hood was speckled with white spots. Beady black eyes stared at her as it moved its head rhythmically from side to side.

Barbara only stole quick glances at Thornbury as he droned on to ensure the snake did not bite Peter. Her revulsion morphed into curiosity. The more she stared at it, the more the snake seemed like a sign. She had an opportunity.

Her plan was the most foolhardy thing she had ever done. Logic told her however that not acting would result in certain death for Peter, Tommy and her. Even a two percent chance of living was with taking, and if she died this way, at least it would rob Thornbury of the satisfaction of killing her.

As she goaded him, Thornbury stepped towards her completely unaware he was moving into her trap. Barbara slowly lowered Peter's head. In his hand, he held the end of a fallen branch. He handed it to her and nodded. Barbara squeezed his good shoulder in thanks.

She made one last check and another sarcastic comment to Thornbury. Again he stepped closer and moved further from Tommy. The man she adored beyond anything was safe, but if her plan went askew, the snake might bite him. That was something she could never bear to happen. He frowned as he looked at her, clearly trying to work out why she was playing up her Acton roots for Thornbury. Her eyes told him of her plan, or at least that he needed to move to his right.

"Now!"

Tommy dived to his right, landing to her left but slightly behind her. After that, it seemed as if everything happened in slow motion. Barbara swung the branch towards the cobra. It reared up to strike, but the branch caught it below its hood. Its eyes seemed to bulge with surprise as it rose in the air and was propelled towards Thornbury. Its tail flapped furiously like the legs of a dog thrown into the water and searching for purchase. Its head reared back then the snake struck out at the only solid object in its path - Thornbury. Barbara was enthralled as it opened its jaws wide. Little spurts of venom preceded its bite. When the snake finally crashed into Thornbury, it sank its fangs deep into his neck.

Thornbury's eyes widened in shock. He dropped his gun at grabbed the snake with both hands trying to wrestle it off his neck. Feeling his hands around its body, the cobra struck again, this time on his face. Thornbury screamed and stumbled backwards away from them. Tommy moved like lightning and seized the gun. He stood and pointed it at Thornbury.

"Are you alright, Barbara?" he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah... just dandy."

Thornbury finally dislodged the snake. He threw it at Tommy, but it missed by several feet, thumping to the ground near Peter.

"Sorry snake," Tommy said as he fired a single shot.

"Help me!" Thornbury cried. He was on his knees; his hands extended towards his enemy.

Tommy ignored him and turned back to Barbara. "Get Paul, but don't run into any firefights or snakes."

Barbara stood. She looked at the lifeless cobra. It had a neat hole in the centre of its hood. She looked at Tommy and raised her eyebrows. He shrugged, but she knew it had not been a lucky shot.

She paused as she passed Thornbury. "You know cobras kill by injecting neurotoxins. Somewhat ironic isn't it?"

* * *

"Death by snake. That's a new one," Paul said as he stood with Tommy and Barbara looking at Thornbury's body. "There hasn't been a fatal snakebite in Hong Kong for nearly two decades. And you say he trod on it and it leapt up and bit him?"

Barbara nodded at Paul. "More or less. He was threatening us, then the next thing I knew the snake was biting his neck."

Behind them the helicopter descended, blasting away their words. "Sounds like the chopper is back from the hospital. We will take the prisoners on this run then take you and Barbara to the hospital. I want you both checked out."

"We're fine," Tommy insisted. Barbara was nestled into his side. They were together, uninjured and that was all either of them needed. "I just want to see Peter and check he's okay. Any word on Mr Tan?"

Paul nodded. "Not yet. Okay, after the hospital, I'll have someone take you back to the hotel. I'll come by later and take full statements. Just for the record. It's going to be hard enough to explain to my boss that I seconded a military unit from a passing naval warship returning from exercises in Japan and used them in a foreign country, destroyed one of Hong Kong's major telecommunications stations, killed a prominent Chinese citizen on Chinese soil, and after a small war with a highly respected agent of MI6, found him dead from a Chinese Cobra attack."

Tommy tried not to laugh. "When you put it like that, it does sound far-fetched."

* * *

Barbara fell into the bed. "We're alive, but I'm completely knackered."

Tommy flopped down beside her. "Me too. Worse after my conversation with Mother. I'm glad Peter had recovered from surgery enough to talk to her."

"I think after she knew you were both okay, her tears were about you two being proper brothers again."

"And us. She sounded delighted." He pulled Barbara over to rest on his chest.

"Do you need to talk about it?"

"What?"

"I saw your face when Thornbury threatened us. You were worried I was going to get hurt."

"Worse. I didn't want to see you die."

"Memories of Helen?"

"In a way, but also memories of when you were shot before. I don't want to feel that sort of emptiness ever again."

She held him tightly. "You won't. We will settle back into a quiet existence in your townhouse. Maybe buy a dog."

"Or have a child."

"I said a quiet existence." Tommy leant up on one elbow and looked at her. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Yes. I would like a family, but only when it's right for you."

"If I weren't so tired I'd suggest we start now." He bent down and kissed her. "Oh, and by the way, do you still want to marry me?"

"Why?"

"You said to ask again after this was all over. So do you?"

She stroked his cheek. "Of course I do."

"Good, because Paul has filed for a special licence through the embassy. We can be married here the day after tomorrow when Peter is released. Paul is arranging for Matthew and David to fly in for interviews. Matthew and a Peter can be our witnesses."

"You have it all arranged it seems."

"I meant it as a surprise, not as a way to railroad you. It's an option. Let me know tomorrow if you want to be married here. If not, we can wait. Just... please don't change your mind."

"Does the ceremony have to be at the Embassy?"

"No. Anywhere I think. You're not thinking of The Peak are you?"

Barbara laughed. "Don't look so horrified. Not in the gardens there, but at that lookout. It would seem fitting. Somewhere where we survived, and I know this sounds stupid, but..."

Tommy caressed her arm. "Tell me."

"Standing there for a moment watching the city, knowing that millions of people were living peaceful existence lives while you were leading us away gunmen who wanted to kill us, made me realise I would follow you anywhere Thomas Lynley. Under any circumstances. What you did for Charlie, well... you saved probably thousands of lives. Standing there was the moment every last doubt and fear disappeared. I knew up there that I loved you completely. Beyond words. So committing my life to yours there... it closes the circle. Hey, don't get all teary on me."

"I can't help it," he said sheepishly. "I understand. After your speech though, I don't have the words to express how much I love you. But I do love you more than anything."

Barbara smiled. "That's a first. You. Speechless."

"No one's ever loved me like that before."

"Hmm, I have. For ages. I just never truly believed we could last. That I could be happy. But I do now."

"I'll tell Paul about our venue tomorrow." Tommy kissed her again, very slowly.

"So, are you really that tired?"

"What do you have in mind?"

Barbara began to undo his shirt. "A shower... then..." Barbara kissed his chest and began to trace her kisses down towards the belt she was unbuckling.

Tommy's clothes continued to disappear as did Barbara's. All thought of a shower vanished as they kissed and caressed. They had just begun to make love when there was a knock on their door.

"Go away!" Tommy called out.

"It's me. Paul. I said I'd drop by to take statements."

Barbara groaned loudly, and Tommy rested his head on her forehead. "I don't think he's going to go away."

"Let him in."

Tommy rose and grabbed the robes from the wardrobe. He tossed one to Barbara then wrapped his around his body loosely, hoping to disguise what they had been doing. He took a deep breath and opened the door. "Paul. Lovely to see you."

* * *

Peter adjusted the sling holding his arm. It dug uncomfortably into his neck. "I hope this is quick," he said to Matthew who was standing next to him looking at the view.

"Sunrise will be in about ten minutes. I think they'll arrive just before that so they can exchange vows with that backdrop."

"Who, other than my brother, would get married at sunrise?"

"I think it's romantic and rather beautiful. More people should do it. How's your arm?"

"Not bad."

"What about Mr Tan?"

"He's recovering. He lost his lung, but they are taking him back to England on a Navy ship. I think they will grill him all the way."

"Good. He probably knows a lot about Chinese crime. Look here comes Tommy."

Peter watched as his brother walked towards him. All dressed up in a tuxedo, Tommy looked like a penguin who had taken a wrong turn. "Did Barbara insist on that? Even at this hour, you must be hot."

"No. She told me to wear anything I liked, but I didn't think bathing trunks was a good look for the photographs. I know she thinks I look sexy in a tux, and I wanted her to..."

Peter tried to hide his smirk. "Hmm?"

Tommy straightened his shoulders. "As we exchange vows I want her to look at me the way she does when we're in bed. Satisfied?"

Peter used his good arm to slap his brother on the back. "I think that's supposed to be romantic. I've seen the way she looks at you. If it's even better when you're... well, at it... then I can't say I blame you."

Before Tommy could answer, the celebrant announced, "the bride has just arrived."

* * *

Peter helped Tommy adjust his coat. He reassured him that he had the ring in his pocket and could reach it with his left hand. His brother was nervous. Peter was pleased. Usually, his brother had been so self-assured, even arrogant, and would never let those not close to him see his vulnerabilities. A lot of things had changed, and Barbara had brought his brother back to him. "Everything will be fine, Tommy."

Peter wiped away more than one tear as he watched them exchange vows. Barbara was dressed in a simple red dress with gold trim on the bodice, the traditional colours for Chinese wedding dresses. She wore none, or minimal makeup and still looked like the practical, down-to-earth Havers that had been his brother's mainstay for so many years. Yet Peter could see an underlying sexiness that he had never noticed before. As they stood looking at each other, he could see their connection was deeply spiritual despite the sexual tension that seemed to spark between them. Vows over, they were pronounced man and wife. As they kissed, far longer than was traditional, the sun's first rays lit the lookout and the couple, a symbol of hope and the future.


End file.
